Blind Allie 2:1

“More than a million skeladults have been reduced to gelatin so far, Missy. And the numbers keep rising.”

“I wish my parents were among them. See you at practice.”

Allie had been obsessed with the current health crisis since the first reported case nearly 18 months ago. It all started mysteriously. Although the Ministry of Osteology had quickly identified a preventative measure to reduce the risk of contracting the illness, the Ministry’s team of dead scientists were still searching desperately for both the cause and a cure.

Severe Acute Gelatinization Syndrome, or SAGS-19, disproportionally strikes older skeletons. It first attacks the coccyx, causing it to soften and droop. It quickly spreads to the thoracic cage, mandible, and patellas, eventually reducing one’s entire frame to a slimy puddle. By all accounts, it is a physically and emotionally painful way to fall apart, particularly for female skeletons. It’s even more painful to watch.

The best preventative measure thus far is astonishing in its simplicity: ice-cold water. Scientists made the bone-chilling discovery almost by accident.

The first case—and the first of several spikes—appeared in the balmy South, a popular winter destination for dead retirees. Public bone health officials had initially downplayed the syndrome to appease cynical local business owners, falsely attributing it to a rare algae bloom that dissipated on its own within a couple of months. But the cases in the South kept rising. And then a Northern skeleton fell apart from it.

The number of cases in the frigid North never reached those in the South, which made it easier for the Ministry to study the affected population. With only a few exceptions, all the northern victims had contracted SAGS after spending time in hot tubs. But the scientists still couldn’t rule out the possibility of algae or some water-borne, bone-eating bacteria since hot tubs are often filthy, especially after use by skeletons whose bones are still wet.

One of the afflicted, who had miraculously stopped himself short of falling apart, attributed his good fortune to a polar bear plunge he took for charity after sitting for a couple hours in a jacuzzi. Lacking any other plausible explanation, the ministry scientists gave him the benefit of the doubt. His case, along with the exceptions (all aging skeletons who had taken hot bubble baths in the privacy of their own homes yet fell apart never the less), led them to hypothesize that the temperature of the water, not its quality, somehow played a role in contracting SAGS and controlling its spread. Experiments in the Ministry laboratory involving volunteers and a thousand pounds of crushed and cubed ice supplied them with the proof they needed to put some interim safety protocols in place.