"I might not be able to talk right now, " Djokovic wrote on a piece of paper as his neck had become swollen to a Looney Tunes cartoon hilarity kind of level. "But at least I know the government isn't keeping tabs on me with with that tracker they sneak into vaccine injections."
"I'm my own man and I believe no one should be forced to do what they don't want to," he continued to write as his hand shook uncontrollably with every stroke causing a painful anguish on his face. "I might look like Alec Baldwin in that wedding scene near the end of Beetlejuice now but I'm proud to say no needle has ever touched this body."
"It's....all....a....hoax," Djokovic gasped before passing out from the pain as his doctors rolled in an iron lung and told the hospital priest not go to lunch just yet.
Australian Open officials are unsure how Djokovic will compete in the championship match with such a collection of old timey sicknesses coursing through his body but his camp is staying positive. They think with a couple days rest, plenty of tea with honey and several bloodletting sessions with leeches to realign the imbalance of the four humors in his body should have him in shape for Sunday's final.