The Miami Marlins announced it would play next season without fans in attendance, a move the team says has nothing to do with the spread of coronavirus, but a practical decision given the team’s historically low attendance records.

“It costs a lot of money to pay all the janitors and hot dog vendors for our games, and it just isn’t worth it since we’re only getting like 250 fans per game anyway,” said Marlins’ CEO Derek Jeter. When asked whether the spread of coronavirus contributed to the team’s decision, Mr. Jeter said it hadn’t. “It’s just a coincidence that people are avoiding major sporting events around the world. They’ve been avoiding us for years.”

The Plantain spoke to Marlins player Brian Anderson about whether it will impact his game to not have fans in attendance. “I don’t think I’ll even notice,” said the third baseman as he walked to the Stadium from the home of an elderly Haitian man who lives next door and lets the players park their cars in his front yard for only $10 a game.

“I had never experienced a global pandemic before” said 34 year-old Kendall resident Michael Stevenson. He recalled bravely surviving the 2014 ebola crisis from the safety of his Westwood Lakes home, a virus that killed over 11,000 people, including two Americans, and for which President Trump recently took credit for solving even though he wasn’t in office at the time.

Amid the Coronavirus crisis, toilet paper and paper towels have been flying off retail shelves, prompting Stevenson to join the fray. The unemployed aspiring app developer and self-described scientist had wandered the aisles of an Anglo Publix, a Home Depot, a Costco, a Target, and a Navarros, but found nothing but empty shelves. After driving around for nearly three hours, a visit to a Kendall CVS y Mas changed his outlook – and his life – forever.

After giving up on his toilet paper mission, he bought three tubes of Mentos at a self-checkout register before experiencing what Republican pop-psychologists refer to as an “epiphany.” “The CVS robot was printing out a seven-foot long CVS receipt, and in those six minutes, I realized — ‘just because they call it ‘toilet’ paper doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I can use on the toilet.”

“Paper comes from trees, and then they just press it into different forms. Coffee filters, paper plates, old cardboard Amazon boxes – it’s all just paper…” Stevenson thought. “What if I expanded my horizons?’ He hurried home to test his hypothesis before rushing back to the CVS for seven tubes of Hemorrhoid cream and Neosporin.

He says he wanted to test his theory on old newspapers, but couldn’t find a Miami Herald or a New Times anywhere. “Newspapers are especially important at a time like this. Not because of the news – I get my vital information from poorly-sourced memes my friends send me – but because of the quality of the paper. Thin, pliable, and dirt cheap. I mean it’s just pages and pages of gold.”

Stevenson says he’s planning to launch an app in the next few weeks wherein users can upload a photo of an object and the app will tell them whether they can wipe their ass with it. “It’ll be called ‘Wipe With It? 2’ [WWIII]. “My cousin stole the copyright to ‘Wipe With It? 1’ after I called to tell him about it. I’m hoping it goes viral,” added Stevenson before apologizing profusely for the pun and running to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Though he feels like he’s discovered a gold-mine, Stevenson says WWIII wasn’t even his first “aha” moment during the Coronavirus crisis. “I was employing ‘social distancing’” — the CDC-recommended method of staying at least six feet away from the nearest person — “and I realized I’ve already been practicing it for like a decade,” explaining that he had spent every weekend for ten years alone in his house with the lights off watching reruns of The Office. “Honestly, the coronavirus is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Update: In related news, The Miami Herald has reportedly quadrupled its hard-copy sales. A Herald spokesperson credited Mr. Stevenson, and by extension The Plantain, with single-handedly funding its pensions for years to come. “He truly is a genius,” said the spokesperson.

Citing fears of mass-contamination from the Coronavirus, the Ultra Music Festival has been canceled.

The Plantain spoke to several elderly homeowner’s association members who, while nervous about a global pandemic, were happy the noise and traffic typical of Ultra weekend would be avoided. “It’s a shame this thing didn’t catch on a few months ago, we could have avoided Basel traffic as well,” said Ari Fautbreath of Sunny Isle before apologizing and admitting he is very scared.

But not everyone is happy about Ultra’s cancellation. “Tsk tsk tsk tsk era era voooooooooom, robot noise,” went a track “written” about the cancellation by DJ HotStuffRiot AKA Derek Walters, from his parents’ Aventura home. Mr. Walters was supposed to make his major festival debut at Ultra but will now be doing nothing that weekend because he has no other plans or girlfriend or friends because he has put all his time into his fledgling music career and everyone he knows is just sick of hearing about it.

“Vava va va, robot noise, electronic static, BROOOOOM,” he played before stopping to tell us how electronic dance music “literally saved his life” and how important Ultra is to the community of drug users and tank-top wearing frat boys who attend every year.