[ WP ] You managed to piss off every major world country while sleepwalking last night .

I need my coffee more than ever this morning. Despite getting eight hours, it feels like I slept on a wrench. Exhausted or not, I'll be part of history in a few short hours. 
 
 Everything must be perfect. My typical unkempt `` mad scientist'' look wo n't fly today. I splash cold water on my face, shave my scruff, and neatly arrange the mop of hair on my head. I breathe deeply into the mirror - you can do this, Chester. 
 
 As I leave the door, it feels like I'm missing something. Keys? Wallet? ID badge? The most important item was firmly grasped in my right hand. This feeling is far from unusual - keep it together, Chester. 
 
 Traffic is a nightmare on the way to the auditorium. I blast the A/C to avoid sweating through my lab coat. I turn a sharp corner and swerve into the parking lot. 5 minutes to 9:00. Move it! 
 
 My jog turns into a sprint as I approach the auditorium. I race through the side entrance, down the halls, into the back of the stage. I'm greeted by a panicked research team. 
 
 `` Chester, where the HELL are all the pills? The entire lab is empty, even the vault. All the documentation has been destroyed. PLEASE tell me you know something about this.'' Ted Chung, the lead scientist, is about six inches from my face at this point. 
 
 The coffee has n't quite kicked in enough for me to respond intelligently. I lift my hand with the pill bottle as I meet Teds eyes with a bewildered gaze. 
 
 `` Chester, you're a life saver! Thank God we hired you as an intern! I'm sorry for ever criticizing your home experiments.'' Ted's relief is palpable. 
 
 `` Come on, we have some big news for the world,'' he says as he pulls me towards the stage with a grin. 
 
 Ted waves an arm and the team files behind him. I take another deep breath as we proceed on the stage. 
 
 I'm blinded almost immediately by the barrage of camera shots. I ca n't even hear my footsteps through the thunderous applause. 
 
 Ted makes his way to the podium and waits nearly a minute for the celebration to die down. `` Ladies and gentlemen, I could n't be more honored to be a part of this moment in history. It's been nearly 50 years since this deadly virus entered our lives. Now we at the CDC can proudly say that AIDS will NO LONGER be a part of our lives!'' 
 
 A standing ovation ensues. I can see people breaking out in tears in the front row. A man in the third row faints. 
 
 As Ted continues his speech, I get ready for my part. I get to present the pills we've created to the world by physically placing them on a big screen overhead. 
 
 I nervously fidget with the bottle. I should probably open it now so I do n't slip up later. Just do it, Chester. I press the cap down and open the bottle. I peek down as Ted gets another round of applause. 
 
 Is that? No. No. Oh God no. 
 
 I double take in horror as I gaze down into the bottle, filled to the brim with Flintstones vitamins. But... How? Why? No. This ca n't be real. This ca n't... 
 
 `` To present the cure, let's give a round of applause to our newest intern, Chester Gumshoe!'' The blood rushes to my face. I walk to the stage like a death row inmate towards the electric chair. 
 
 I stand before the overhead, palms dripping in sweat. There's no turning back now, Chester. Accept your doom. My shaky hands present the colorful vitamins to the world. 
 
 A few gasps follow, followed by a silence that feels like eternity. 
 
 `` Is this some kind of joke?'' a man in the back shouts. 
 
 I glance over at Ted, who's frozen in shock. 
 
 A barrage of boo's begins. People stand up and shout in every language. The noise is punctuated by curse words. 
 
 I back up slowly into the curtains. I back up right into the chest of a security guard. 
 
 `` This guy broke in last night!'' he shouts, `` I got video of him dumpin' pills down the drain and shredding documents!'' 
 
 It could n't be, I had n't sleepwalked since childhood. I guess the stress of the event... no... no... this ca n't be happening! 
 
 I wake up in a panic. I turn over and look at the clock - half past six. 

