[ WP ] The world is rapidly changing as the plague of our era is spreading fast . But it does n't affect humans . It eats plastic .

`` Curt you're about to-'' the stocky man next to me crashed through the middle of his beach chair. His legs were suspended by the metal frame. 
 
 `` Son of- this is worse than Zika!'' Curt screeched, `` I mean, come on Sam! Seriously, my brand new chair?'' 
 
 `` I do n't know what to tell you, I bought you a wooden one. You just did n't bring it,'' I popped open a can of craft brews from the cooler between us. The ocean was bluer and louder than ever. The waves crashed only against sand and stone, there were no scratchy plastic shovels or old candy wrappers washing ashore anymore. It was all thanks to the genetically modified mosquitoes, who would have guessed? 
 
 `` I really, I really just do n't need a hand out. I need this plague of plastic to go away. Good thing canning is back in action, I'd have holes in every mixed drink cup I own if I took them outside.'' Curt reached for a beer, his arms looked stronger and tanner than mine but it was mostly early onset melanoma. 
 
 `` It has so much fuel though. I mean, we've built it a buffet, that plague is n't going anywhere. I think it'll be good for society, the environment can recover, temperatures are down for the first time in thirty years, and look how clean that ocean is!'' I spilled a few droplets of beer with my excitement. Curt and I were the only two men on the beach, it was too early for everyone else but seven in the morning was the perfect time to relax. The sun was just right, the temperatures were under a hundred until around ten in the morning and a good swig of beer to wake you was always the sign of a memorable vacation. Curt dug himself a little hole in the sand, throwing the metal frame a few feet away. 
 
 `` Clinton did this, there's no way a republican would have allowed a GMO mosquito virus with world changing properties to fly out of a little cup in a lab deep in Arkansas.'' 
 
 `` The mosquitoes had the cure for Zika. When half of the Eastern Seaboard is infected, you have to do something drastic. Besides, she barely made the call, corporations would have done it anyway,'' I took another long swig before brushing the first bead of sweat from my brow. Gulf Shores was a nasty place one time, but with the new virus eating the plastic all the junky shops had run off to sell their cheap wares in another state. California was now the trashpit of America, everyone was all about the Gulf Shores now. 
 
 `` Whatever. I had to buy a new trashcan, new refrigerator, new siding, new gutters, rechaulk everything, new clips and holders and all kinds of shit. This world has cost me a mint! And for what? A little bluer ocean, a little less sweat in the morning heat? It's all just bullshit Sam. Your grandfather would be turning over in his grave.'' 
 
 `` He was cremated, remember?'' 
 
 `` You know what I mean. Trump would have just smoked the buggers out. Walled us off like we should have done,'' Curt leaned back against the sand exposing his lack of a six pack. He was a daring uncle, Sam would n't be here without him, but sometimes the older generation just does n't get it. 
 
 `` His hotels have crumbled because of this plague, you think the border would have been built better?'' 
 
 `` Good point. Well, anyway...'' Curt chugged the rest of his beer. He gobbled in a breath of fresh salty air, sucked in his gut and belched so loudly the seagulls flew off screaming. `` Ha, so what's on the docket today, Sam? Any good short stories?'' 
 
 `` Just a few about you, a few what-ifs,'' I sipped once more, finishing off my can. Today, maybe everything was going to be okay.
