Turn Off Your Spigot

Imagine a world that exists in two parts:
Part one: everyone lives in one giant, white box.
And part two: everyone has control over an individual water spigot that pours down from the ceiling.
 
Now, for all of human history, the spigots have been non-functioning.
Until January 2020.
 
Suddenly, everyone's spigots just turned on!
Now, there were some scientists who knew the spigots were about to turn on. They told the world leaders what was about to happen. But no one wanted to listen to them. So, no one did shit to prepare for the spigots. And then they turned on.
 
"Holy shit, the floor is soaking wet!"
"People are suddenly slipping and sliding all over the place!"
"And holy shit, grandma and the kid with a prosthetic leg just slipped and fell and DIED."
 
"Fuck. Everyone just turn off your spigots for a little while until we can get the floor dry," says the World Health Organization.

"But turning off my spigot means I have to stay out of the box and stay at my spigot, so I can't go to work or go to the park or go shoot my gun," says the neckbeard of the family.

"Yeah, we know," says the WHO. "But if we all just turn off our spigots for a little while, the floor will dry, and we can all go back to normal. But if a few people keep their spigots on, the floor will never dry, and then no one can go back to normal."

"Well, fuck you, you can't tell me what to do!" says the neckbeard. And while everyone else turns their spigots off, Neckbeard McGee (no offense to any McGees reading this) turns his up and starts shouting from his spigot place, "OPEN ALL THE SPIGOTS! OPEN ALL THE SPIGOTS!"
 
So, some other neckbeards open their spigots because, hey, the WHO can't tell them what to do.
But now, while most of the world are keeping their spigots off, the neckbeards frolic in the wet, wet world. Unfortunately, there are people who don't have the luxury of staying by their spigots because they have doctor's appointments and prescriptions to pick up; people like grandma and the kid with a prosthetic leg. Who slip. And fall. And die.

And another hundred thousand people slip and fall and die.
Including a few of the neckbeards.
But mostly grandma and the kid with the prosthetic leg.
And a ton more people slip and fall and shatter their spines and their femurs and their humeruses and will never be the same again.

​And those hundred thousand who slipped and fell and died? That's just in the US.
That's not counting the other two hundred and sixty thousand who die worldwide.
All because Neckbeard McGee (again, no offense to any McGees; I'm sure y'all are lovely) and his friends refused to turn off their spigots for a little while.
 
So, the floor stays wet.
And the neckbeards keep spouting.
And the rest of us keep our spigots off and watch as grandma and the kid with the prosthetic leg keep slipping and falling and dying.
And the healthcare workers scramble around in the deluge, risking slipping and falling and dying, to save grandma and the kid with the prosthetic leg.
All because of Neckbeard McGee and his friends.
 
Don't be Neckbeard McGee.
Wear your mask.
Stay home.
Wash your hands.
And turn off your fucking spigot.