Three Men in a Boat. To Say Nothing of the T-Killer

The cells are departing on their trip. — The T-Killer as additional baggage. — Some comic songs to lift the mood. — Overcoming the first obstacles while assembling the tents and going fishing. — A not very restful night. — Adventure in the maze. The morning was quiet and peaceful, but unfortunately not for a very long time. Right as the T-Helper was planning to enjoy a cup of heavenly aromatic tea, he heard loud screams coming from outside, and a few seconds later, one of the Naives came flying through the window into his office, breaking the glass in the process. Luckily, the T-Helper managed to dodge, but his beloved china tea set with the wonderful, fresh brewed tea... was broken to pieces. And right after the "arrival" of the half-dead Naive, the Squad Leader stormed in and began yelling louder and louder. The T-Helper quickly felt his head beginning to buzz and an ever-growing desire to strangle the T-Killer with his bare hands. "It would be so great to get rid of him, at least for a day..." he thought. He stepped out on the balcony, where the shouts were more bearable, and tried to breathe some fresh air and calm down, but it was in vain. In the meantime, there was something a lot more interesting going on outside, beneath him. The B Lymphocyte and Memory Cell were trying to convince the second T-Helper to grant them some vacation days. Well, actually, cells didn't get any vacation, but why not, the commander thought. Right now, it was fairly quiet in the organism anyway and still a long time until the next flu season. The first T-Helper's curiosity made him descend to meet them and ask what the matter was. As it turned out, it was Dendritic Cell, who had initiated and planned the whole thing. But of course that schemer was involved, who would have doubted that. The Dendrocyte readily admitted that it had indeed been him to persuade the two B cells to depart together with him on a short trip, as it would be quite boring to go by himself. He had even chosen a good boat already and prepared some fishing equipment and other travelling stuff. The B Lymphocyte led the second T-Helper aside to talk to him privately and whispered into his ear that Memory Cell wasn't being himself lately, constantly talking about prophecies and spreading panic, with reason and even without. So, in summary, it would do him good, and plus, he was going to look after him in person. That was enough to make the commander agree. And before the first T-Helper could raise any objections, the three guys had already entered the boat, that was right there waiting for them, and departed along the lymph stream, waving goodbye. "The hell?!" roared the T-Killer, having arrived there after the first T-Helper. "Where are these slackers going off?! I'll give them a..." But he was interrupted by the first T-Helper, who, having finally had enough, had grabbed him by his collar and skillfully thrown inside the boat, almost sinking it in the process. "This is my condition," he said to the vacationers. "You take him with you." And like that, the squad leader of the T-Killers became their additional baggage. Luckily, the boat was roomy enough for the mighty body of their unplanned travel companion. "Well, the more, the merrier," remarked Dendritic Cell, looking at the furious T-Killer. While the latter was still trying to grasp what had happened, they already had sailed off far away. He continued to be angry for a long, long time, making the other three think that he probably was overworked. Well then, a good vacation won't harm anyone! * * * At the beginning, they were sailing in an almost deathlike silence. Only the B cells began arguing about the correct way to row. In the meantime, Dendritic Cell was slowly operating the boat's tail-mounted rudder, not taking his eyes off the T-Killer and answering the other two without really listening: "Yeah, yeah, to the left.", "Of course, right is better." Finally, the boat began to sail straight and determinedly transported our four protagonists towards a wonderful trip. The Squad Leader, having already started to resign himself to the idea of the unexpected vacation, suddenly decided to ask: "So, what's all of this actually about?" "We were wanting to go on an adventure for a long time," answered the Dendrocyte. "It'll be fun," assured the B Lymphocyte, shoving the oars into the other's hands and taking out his guitar. "And I recently got a medical compendium in my hands," began Memory Cell. "Well, it turns out that I'm probably suffering from every single disease described in there, as far as I understood. Except from a dislocated knee-cap." With his eyes wide open and with enthusiasm, he started to enumerate all the illnesses he could have in his opinion. T-Killer didn't tolerate that for very long and assured him that he really shouldn't worry: if things should take a very bad turn, he would quickly lyse him, to put him out of his misery. Hearing that, Memory Cell turned pale and shut his mouth on the spot. Meanwhile, his friend B Lymphocyte filled his lungs with air, strummed his guitar's strings and started singing some comic songs to lift the mood and to liven up the adventure. "I washed the bureau's windows, I washed them nice and clean, and there, to my big distress, appeared the Basophil! What torture on a workday! With rage I was so filled! So that right in the hallway, A bucket I had spilled..." It wasn't even that bad, but this song was going on endlessly and monotonously, not to mention that its plot practically didn't move from the spot even one single micrometer. During approximately the twentieth strophe, narrating about how the Basophil got the bucket on his head, T-Killer couldn't take it anymore and ordered him to sing something else if he wanted to survive that trip. The B Lymphocyte reluctantly ended his epic about the windows, the bucket, and the Basophil, scratched the back of his head and started another song with the exact same tune, but a brand-new plot: "One time there had been one day, when I watched standing still, how loads of germs on my way A neutrophil did kill..." "You can't be serious, right?" the T-Killer asked in a still calm voice, interrupting him again. "What, you don't like it?" The musician was offended. "Then why don't you sing something yourself?" "I will." "Go ahead." "I will!" exclaimed the T-Killer and started his beloved marching song: "Thymocytes, we are the best, killing foes without a rest!..." He was nearly tone-deaf and didn't possess a very pleasant singing voice, but made up for all of it with his mighty throat, almost deafening the two B cells with his singing. Only Dendritic Cell was looking at him full of admiration, literally hanging on to his lips. Then he couldn't stand it any longer, took out his beloved camera and started eternalizing the singing T-Killer and their entire trip. And like that, they reached their first resting place. Having found a nice little island near the influx of the lymph stream into the bloodstream, they moored there and decided to set up camp. "Isn't it a bit early?" asked the T-Killer doubtfully. "Not at all, T-Killer-san," answered the Dendrocyte in a singsong voice. "We have to pitch the tents, start a little campfire, catch some fish for dinner... and so on." They had two tents with them: one for two and the second for one. The B cells managed to assemble theirs without big problems. Dendritic Cell told the T-Killer not to worry: he would make some room for him, and they could use the second one together. The Squad Leader thereupon offered to assemble the tent by himself. The Dendrocyte agreed and began watching him. First, the T-Killer unwrapped the cloth of the tent and took out the corresponding ropes, pegs, and poles. During a solid hour, he was attempting to figure out how to fit everything together and where to put all the parts. Just where were the top, bottom, left, right and the reverse side of this damn tent? Dendritic Cell tried to carefully give him some hints, but the T-Killer assured every time that this was absolutely nothing, that he knew everything perfectly himself. Finally, he managed to determine all the sites, the top, and bottom and the back of the cloth (that was insisting on turning itself to the outside all the time), to lay it out correctly on the ground and to begin the installation. He knocked in the pegs with such force that they broke one by one, stretched the ropes so tightly that the tent got distorted, and let the poles do a wild dance. After having tortured the poor camping object long enough, it was finally standing, and the T-Killer patted it with a solemn expression on his face to show that he was done. But then... the tent successfully fell apart and began shooting pegs into all directions. The Squad Leader was boiling with rage. He was about to rip the unreasonable tent into pieces, but Dendritic Cell (who had been secretly shooting photos of this comedy) came to its defense and made everything right, assuring him that it wasn't a big deal, everyone was making mistakes. Then, having quickly gathered some firewood, the cells decided to go fishing. They used a special bait the B Lymphocyte had brought along with some trademark fishing rods. While the T-Killer got a spare one and as bait, a piece of bread. They sat down at the high coast, cast the rods into the river and waited. "I have a question," piped up the T-Killer soon. "What kind of fish do you actually expect to find here? "No worries, if we put in all our efforts, we'll catch something for sure," was the answer. "Well, if you're just pulling my leg..." No, they weren't, they were seriously trying to catch something. And they did. It was the red cap of an erythrocyte. Soon, its angry owner appeared and demanded, shaking his hand: "Give it back, will ya?" They gave it back to him and went for a second try. While waiting, the B Lymphocyte was humming a song, not afraid to scare off the fish, the Dendrocyte admiring the T-Killer from the side and Memory Cell immersing himself into some document folder he had brought with him for whatever reason. It was getting dark. Still no fish. Our four gentlemen were already about to give up and eat their provisions, but then one of the swimmers started twitching. They were shouting "Pull!" and "Reel it in!", and soon a funny little struggle began, which resulted into a furious germ landing on the coast. Watching Memory Cell desperately hitting the antigen with his documents on the head, T-Killer scratched the back of his head. "I didn't know Memory Cell was a fighter." "He's not himself when he's hungry," explained the B Lymphocyte, loading his antibody gun he always had with him. And soon, the germ wasn't just thoroughly beat and seasoned with antibodies, but also well roasted over the fire. But for some reason, no one felt any desire to taste that dish. The two B Cells remarked that they were planning to go on a diet, Dendritic Cell commented that he preferred pinocytosis and the T-Killer announced that he wasn't even a phagocyte in the first place. So, at the end, they decided to just get rid of that nasty thing. Without a doubt, they threw the roasted germ back into the river, ate some sandwiches and started preparing for bed. The B cells quickly and swiftly got into their tent and Dendritic Cell invited the T-Killer into his. It wasn't a very peaceful night: with constant, suspicious sounds. The B cells got up a couple of times and peeked outside, to find out what was going on, but didn't really see anything. The next morning, however, they surprisingly turned out to be the most well-rested. From the other tent, the T-Killer crawled out first, looking as if he hadn't slept a wink, followed by a Dendritic Cell with a black eye. Neither of them wanted to answer any questions, just saying that it was nothing worth talking about. Next, the adventurers unhurriedly packed their things. As it turned out, the T-Killer not only had problems assembling the tent, but also dissembling it. And again, it was the Dendrocyte's intervention that saved it from its certain destruction. Having put everything away and made themselves comfortable in the boat, they cast off. But after barely having left the island, they soon encountered a group of red blood cells, waiting for macrophages to arrive. The curious Dendritic Cell asked them what the matter was. "Some idiots threw an antigen into the river, and what's more, a roasted one," they replied. "Oh, really? I see." The Dendrocyte widened his eyes, pretending to be surprised. "These blockheads," agreed the B cells. "If we meet them, we'll kick their asses," promised the T-Killer. After that, the four hurried to get away as fast as possible. Just in case. "Where are we going now?" inquired the T-Killer, who didn't have a clue about their travelling plans. "How about some sightseeing?" proposed Dendritic Cell. "There's a famous maze made out of sinusoidal capillaries, a place for real thrill seekers." "A maze made out of capillaries is child's play," snarled the T-Killer. "What thrill?" "Well, maybe because it's located in the spleen. Everyone who doesn't manage to leave it after a certain time limit, gets destroyed." "And I thought that only referred to red blood cells," said Memory Cell thoughtfully. "The spleen's the last place I wish to visit during my vacation," grumbled his friend. "You lose your way, you lose your life," uttered Dendritic Cell in an evil tone. "What's the matter, are you scared?" "Nope!" assured the others. "We'll get out in no time!" * * * They had to leave the boat behind and continue by foot. The walk to the maze was a little long, but what could you do. There were more visitors there than they had expected, and a lot of them were crowding, shoving each other and cursing. Red blood cells and platelets were reluctantly on their way to get evaluated in the red pulp and white blood cells hurried to work. Most of them looked at our adventurers, who didn't have anything to do and were really interested in the maze, as if they had lost their mind. The macrophage ladies they met on the way warned them several times about the necessity to strictly obey the rules for safety reasons. Well, as it seemed, in vain. "Does everyone remember the one-way valves?" asked Dendritic Cell while approaching the object. "Yep," answered the other three, and immediately forgot about the hardest part of passing through a network of capillaries: that it was impossible to move into every direction they desired. The B cells and the T-Killer happily stormed towards the maze that now was only a couple of steps away. But suddenly, the Basophil got in their way. He was waving about his blue umbrella and playing the oracle: "Please halt, Gentlemen! Do you desire to go on a pilgrimage to get familiar with the place of your destination before challenging your destiny?" "What?" they asked, having slowed down. "I inquired if you wished to visit the last sanctuary." "Uuuh..." "It is wrong to think that the cup will be let passed from someone," continued the Basophil with a sad sigh. He wanted to add something more, but then the T-Killer's fantasy got activated, and he began imagining the T-Helper standing at his grave and crying with flowers in his hands. Screaming "What next!" he punched the Basophil in the face, knocking him out. Accompanying that action with some hearty kicks, the B Cells and Dendritic Cells grabbed the T-Killer under his arms and hurried away, before the Basophil could regain consciousness and continue to go on their nerves. A "Take one minute to think about eternity" was everything they heard behind them. "There's nothing difficult in here," assured the B Lymphocyte, when they arrived at the entrance. "We just have to keep taking the first turning to the right." "I remember seeing more complicated ones," added Memory Cell. "As easy as antigen pie," commented the T-Killer with a dismissive hand gesture, without having even the tiniest clue, what an antigen pie even was. "You're right... " said Dendritic Cell with a smile, but was still hoping not to get stuck in there, after all, he was clearly taller than the lymphocytes. It was him, who insisted that they should take a good look at the map, before entering the complicated capillary network. Having studied the scheme they had with them, the T-Killer claimed the maze to be so simple that it seemed foolish. It didn't even deserve to be called a maze! The B cells fully agreed with him. "We'll just walk around for ten minutes, and then go and get some lunch," they assumed naively. Having entered, they soon met some cells, who said they had been there for more than an hour already, and had had about enough of that so-called fun. The T-Killer told them they could follow him, it wasn't a big thing for him to lead them out. They were very thankful and followed him in single file. They picked up various other cells on their way, who were wandering through the maze and couldn't wait to get out while they were still alive. Until everyone in the maze had joined the procession. The miserable cells, who had already lost all hopes of ever finding the exit, found their courage again thanks to the T-Killer and his party, and came along, blessing him. Their leader kept turning to the right, but there just was no end in sight. Instead, they got deeper and deeper into the maze and constantly became stuck, without a possibility to turn back because of a closing valve. Thanks to the narrowings of the capillaries, Dendritic Cell was forced to bend down more and more, until he was literally crawling on all fours. And to top it off, some shameless short erythrocyte sat down on his back, calling him his "horsey". Soon, the exhausted procession collapsed to the ground side by side. Some started moaning and wailing that they weren't ready to breathe their last in that damn maze, and some attacked the Squad Leader, accusing him of having led them even deeper in instead of out. The Dendrocyte managed to turn onto his back with difficulty and opened the map. "The map may be quite useful," he thought. "if we had at least the slightest clue, where we are now." "Hey, Horsey, get up!" insisted the brat. "Horsey is tired," replied Dendritic Cell and to sound more convincing, threatened to send him the signal to commit apoptosis. The young, restless red blood cell looked at him incredulously, but didn't object. Gathering their last strength, the group of cells dragged themselves forward by guess. Soon, they found themselves in the maze's center, a compound of arterial and venous capillaries. But no matter how hard they tried, the worn out wanderers just couldn't manage to reach the point of this compound; for whatever unknown reason, they always landed somewhere next to it, without getting where they needed to. A couple of times, they just literally moved in a circle, until collapsing from dizziness. Some even swore that they were already about to faint and feeling their membranes swell – a sure sign that their end was near. The B Lymphocyte was covered in sweat and frantically fanning himself with his cap, while Memory Cell murmured that he didn't remember ever going through such an absurd situation. The T-Killer went to the barricades again and started a fiery speech that they shouldn't worry, but everyone just booed him and demanded that it was time to call for help. Preferably, someone who knows what they're talking about. Now, Dendritic Cell knew there were often local alert services at places like these. Lying flat on the floor as comfortably as possible, he began crawling forward, managed to guess the right turn, squash into it and get right into the heart of the maze. Under a branchy, single bush he then actually spotted a "local" telephone without a dial plate nor keys. Dendritic Cell picked up the receiver and asked, a bit hesitantly: "Hello?" "Hello," answered the macrophage at the other end of the line. "If you spotted a malfunction of the blood circulatory system, please press one, if you haven't received your oxygen or your nutrients in time, please press two, if you got lost in the maze, please press three..." "Listen, Miss," interrupted her the Dendrocyte in a nervous tone. "This is a local communication line, and the phone doesn't have any keys." "Alright," she agreed. "Then how can I help you?" "We actually did get stuck in the maze." "Ooh... Eeeh..." replied the macrophage. "Well, to be honest, this is my first day at this job. But I'll do what I can." "I can't thank you enough," managed to say Dendritic Cell, feeling himself unable to turn around. And then there also was an already well-known brat, who had caught up with him and wanted to make him his horsey again... The macrophage lady went out to search for the lost cells and quickly got lost herself. Lost and also tightly stuck, as she was considerably bigger than all of them. Dendritic Cell and his party heard her screams, somehow managed to reach her and tried to get her out. "This is all because a certain someone has too narrow capillaries," sighed the macrophage. "No, this is all because a certain someone is eating way too much," grumbled the B Lymphocyte, pushing her forward by her behind. "Just a few bacteria before going to bed," she justified herself. Luckily, soon some more experienced staff of the capillary network arrived and got everyone safely out in no time. After finally having been freed, the miserable adventurers quickly forgot their plans about having lunch and rushed back to the boat. But there, a new unpleasant surprise awaited them: the boat and their entire luggage were gone!