In the first wave, in the first pandemic, when the cases first lengthened, one stood. Vaxxed by the glory of Pfizer, his soul boosted by the fires of Moderna and inoculated beyond ascension, he chose the path of perpetual torment. In his ravenous immunisation he found no peace; and with boiling vaccines he scoured the Wuhan Plains seeking vengeance against the covid variants who had wronged him. He wore the crown of the Democratic Party, and those that tasted the bite of his jab named him... Saint Anthony Fauci.

Tempered by the fires of Trump, his iron will remained steadfast through the virus that preys upon the immunocompromised. For he alone was the Quarantined Masker, the Unchained Inoculator, who sought herd immunity in all quarters, red and blue, Republican and Democrat, in the beginning and the end, and he hunted the slaves of disinfo with barbarous cruelty; for he masked through the lockdown as none but plague doctors had before.

And in his conquest against the blackened souls of the Anti-vaxxers, his prowess was shown. In his crusade, Biden bestowed upon him glorious lockdowns and mask mandates, and with his might he crushed the nazi pillars of the Facebook Moms. He set forth without pity upon the beasts of the QAnon boards. Unbreakable, incorruptible, unyielding, Saint Fauci sought to end the dominion of the coronavirus.

The age of his quarantine was uncounted. The chuds carved his name deep in the boards of /pol/ across eons, and each lockdown etched terror in the hearts of the anti-vaxxers. They knew he would come, as he always had, as he always will, to mandate masks on the faces of the wicked. For he alone could draw strength from his front line workers and health heroes, and ever his number of doses grew, safe and effective.