See, this is why you don't point and laugh when other people get sick. Or when you make them get sick for plotting purposes, rather.

I'll go ahead and prescribe you fifty milligrams of shut your trap with that bowl of soup.

Oh, that's not very compassionate? Don't milk it, kiddo. You're sick, not dying.

By the way, don't forget that I need to get back to work when all this is done. I think we still had some plans about Nott that need to pan out before the end of the year. Just a little something to keep in mind while you're recovering from that extremely well deserved and piping hot slice of karma you picked up, there.