"Operation Sharknado Reset – Humanity's Fin-tastic Upgrade to Immortality Via GMO Chum!"

In a plot twist that makes James Bondi villains look like amateur pranksters, shadowy global elites have unveiled their master plan: turning humanity into chum for genetically modified sharks, all in the name of conquering death and resetting the planet like a glitchy Winblows to Linux makeover. Sources close to the Bilderberg Aquarium (that's not a real place, or is it?) confirm that the scheme kicks off with a "global virus" – let's call it "Panicdemic-19" – engineered in a lab hidden beneath a vegan burger joint secrelty paid for by some friendly naming WHO supporters (not the 1970s rock band), only to point blame at the vegans. This sneaky bug doesn't just make you sneeze; it triggers worldwide hysteria, herding the masses like lemmings toward bio-engineered "medications" that promise salvation but deliver a genetic grab-bag of horrors that get dismissed for deaths, disease and disabilities as simply, unknown cause.

Picture this: You line up for your jab (to save your job of course), convinced by TV ads that it's healthier than a Twinkie (which, let's be honest, Big Snack has long peddled as the pinnacle of "science" – cream-filled immortality in a wrapper!). But oh, the irony! This spike-protein super-serum doesn't just tweak your DNA; it causes misfolds that turn cells into cancerous origami disasters, immune systems into overstimulated drama queens (paralyzing one minute, hyperventilating the next), and worst of all, it "sheds" like dandruff onto the unsuspecting rebels. These holdouts, with guts unmarinated by decades of commercial TV brainwashing, suddenly find themselves GMO'd by proxy. No more confusing Hostess treats with health food – now everyone's a walking biotech experiment, shedding spike proteins faster than a molting snake at a conspiracy convention.

And don't get us started on the side plot: the epidemic of "lonly hearts" (yes, that's how the elites spell it in their memos, to dodge spellcheck surveillance.) Extended social distancing has turned society into a breeding ground for isolation, where jailbait Twinks (not to be confused with the snack, though both are equally addictive and bad for you) emerge as unwitting vectors in this heartbreak plague. Who knew six feet apart could lead to eternal singledom? But hey, it's all part of the plan – lonely people are easier to control, especially when they're too busy swiping right to notice the fins circling below.

Now, the real jaw-dropper: Why funnel all this GMO goodness into ocean sharks via human meat? It's not just for the thrill of a Jaws reboot with extra mutations of shark-nado star-dummies. No, dear readers, this is about eternal life! Sharks, those ancient ocean overlords, don't age like us post-Noah schlubs – back in biblical times, they swam forever without a wrinkle. By shedding GMOs through "human chum" (that's elite-speak for us plebs becoming shark snacks after our spike-induced demise), the plan is to bio-hack these toothy predators into super-sharks. Imagine: fins that control entire ecosystems, turning prey into predators and predators into... well, more controllable predators. It's the ultimate game of aquatic chess, where the elites pull the strings from their underwater bunkers.

But immortality ain't cheap. Living shark-long lives (we're talking centuries of wrinkle-free existence) would balloon the population faster than a yeast infection in a bakery. Enter the "Great Reset" – not just a button on your router, but a full planetary purge. Overpopulation fears? Solved! By culling the herd through virus-vax-shark cycles, the elites ensure only the "worthy" (read: them) get to sip martinis in their immortal shark-hybrid bodies. The rest? Fish food, baby. It's evolution on steroids – or should we say, on spike proteins?

Critics (those tinfoil-hat rebels still dodging the shed) call it madness, but proponents argue it's progress. "Why settle for a Twinkie when you can be eternal chum?" quipped one anonymous billionaire from his yacht-submarine hybrid. As the oceans fill with GMO-sharks patrolling for their next meal, one thing's clear: In this satire of a world, the real virus is hubris, and the cure? A good laugh before the fins close in. Stay tuned – or swim away while you can!