With his band, the E Street Men (And Also My Wife), he has sold more than 120 million records and performed 18 world tours in over 50 countries...

He’s got a best friend named Little Steve, who is also in the E Street Men but isn’t his wife...

Yes, The String Man has done it all—he’s sang, he’s worn earrings, and he’s gotten married—but there’s still one thing he has yet to do...

Bruce Springsteen has never been sick.

Yes. Bruce Springsteen has never once been sick. After all those years of traveling the world and being married, he’s never once sneezed or vomited or vomited off a boat.

And that’s where you come in.

No, that’s not a lie. Bruce Springsteen has never once been sick. After all those years of traveling the world and being married, he’s never once sneezed or vomited or vomited off a boat.

And that’s where you come in.

Yes. You.

This is Bruce’s mouth, or “The Cave.” This is where you live.

And this is you. You’re a germ.

As a germ, it’s your job to make Bruce Springsteen sick for the first time in his life. You’ll need to travel through his body and do what no germ has ever done before: get him so sick that he can’t play his next concert.

So, can you do it?

Good. Then let’s get started.

Yes, you are.

And, as a germ, it’s your job to make Bruce Springsteen sick for the first time in his life. You’ll need to travel through his body and do what no germ has ever done before: get him so sick that he can’t play his next concert.

So, can you do it?

Good. Then let’s get started.

Okay! Here you are, in what Bruce and his wife affectionately call “The Cave.” This is where sounds and gases exit Bruce’s body, and where sickness should enter.

As you travel through Bruce’s body, click [Zoom out.] to see how your attempts to make him sick enough to cancel his big concert are working.

Where would you like to go?

Okay! Here you are, back in what Bruce and his wife affectionately call “The Cave.” Where would you like to go now?

You choose to go up, and follow a long, wet tube that Bruce calls “Little Steven,” in honor of his best friend, Little Steve. It feels a lot like The Cave, but Bruce isn’t famous for it. What would you like to do here?

You choose to go back, and follow a long, wet tube that Bruce calls “Little Steven.” It feels a lot like The Cave, but Bruce isn’t famous for it. What would you like to do here?

Bruce is chomping on handfuls of antibiotics and women’s health supplements backstage to make sure he’ll never get sick, which he won’t.

You continue upwards, and suddenly, things start to narrow...

You go backwards, and suddenly, things start to open up again...

Suddenly, you come upon a narrow hallway.

You continue. The hallway leads to a mysterious door.

“Hello, small germ. Welcome to Bruce Springsteen’s brain,” says a voice, echoing loudly. “Congratulations on getting this far. Few have ever seen Bruce’s vast tub of knowledge, which is, to be honest, mostly about New Jersey and being healthy.”

“But before I continue any further with you, I would like to ask you something,” says the brain. “See, Bruce is so healthy that I’m worried he’s actually too healthy. I really want to make him just slightly less well, but the only thing is, I don’t want to make him sick. If I gave you three options, would you tell me the one you would choose?”

Good call. One of these options could make Bruce sick!

“Thank you so much!” says the brain. “So, option one: I have this on/off switch, and I’m not sure what it does. I was wondering if I should hit it.”

“Great choice!” says the brain. “I think this is going to make Bruce slightly less unhealthy, but not quite sick!”

He flicks the switch.

Bruce runs out onstage in front of thousands of fans, feeling healthy as ever.

“I’m a healthy god!” he sings. “I’ll never be unhealthy and I’ll never be sick / No, no, no / Not this boy from New Jersey / Nothing can ever hurt me and I’m going to live forever.”

The crowd is going nuts. Then all of a sudden, he falls to the ground.

“Bruce, are you healthy?” shouts Little Steve into the mic. “Bruce, if you’re healthy, wake up.”

Bruce doesn’t respond.

“Not this boy from New Jersey / Nothing can ever hurt me and I’m going to live forever,” sings the crowd.

“Okay, I see why that might not be the best idea,” he says. “So, option two: I wrote this song called ‘I’m Not Sick At All But I Want To Go To The Hospital.’ Should I have Bruce sing it tonight?”

“Great choice!” says the brain. “I think this is going to make Bruce slightly less unhealthy, but not quite sick!”

Bruce runs out onstage in front of thousands of adoring fans, feeling healthy as ever.

“Hey everybody, I’ve got a new song I just wrote that I’d like to play for you all today,” he yells at the crowd. “It’s called ‘I’m Not Sick At All But I Want To Go To The Hospital,’ and I hope you’ll all raise your hands and sing along.”

The crowd is going nuts. Bruce begins to sing.

“There once was a Jersey boy named Bruce and he felt great / That boy was healthy his whole life, and never once twisted fate / No , no / No one lives forever, but the one exception is me...”

“Except right now / Because I’m not sick at all but I want to go to the hospital...”

“That’s right! / I’m not sick at all, but I want to go to the hospital! / I’m so damn healthy that I’ve never ever been...”

“Totally makes sense why I shouldn’t do that,” he says. “So, your third and final option: Bruce loves to dance with fans. If there is someone in the audience with a disease, should I make Bruce dance with them?”

“Great choice!” says the brain. “I think this is going to make Bruce slightly less unhealthy, but not quite sick!”

“Hey everyone!” shouts Bruce to the audience as he runs onstage to start his concert. “Is there anyone out there who has a deadly disease? If so, I would like to dance with you.”

“You, honey, right there. You look like you have a debilitating disease.”

“I have Zinka,” she yells. “I have Zinka, and it sucks!”

Bruce pulls her up onstage.

“I love Zinka, baby,” he yells. “Dance with me, Zinka lady!”

They dance and dance for several hours, until...

“Okay, we’ll go through them again, but this time, pay attention.”

Bruce is writing down a list of doctors he would fight if they were to tell him he weren’t the healthiest man on earth. He will then read it out loud to the audience.

Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you!

You enter the nose. It’s dark and moist in here.

Yikes. It’s so dark and moist in here that, unfortunately, you’ve started to panic. Suddenly, though, you spot a bright light.

You walk toward the bright light. The closer you go, the more blinding it becomes.

Wow. You adjust to the light and look around, and then you realize you’re outside! Just as quickly as you entered Bruce’s nose, you left it. Now, you’re not just a germ—you’re a germ who is even more disgusting because you’ve left Bruce’s clean body and entered the filthy world.

So, now that you’re outside, what kind of nasty shit do you want to touch?

You get into the nasty shit that is Bruce’s big messy hog, Little Steve, and roll your filthy germ body around all over him. How would you like to become worse and get Bruce sick?

You travel down Bruce’s body to get into the nasty shit that is his foot. You roll your filthy germ body around it and try to make him have an itch onstage. How would you like to become worse and get Bruce sick?

You travel down Bruce’s body to get into the beautiful place that is his butt. You roll your filthy germ body around it and try to make him have an itch onstage. How would you like to become worse and get Bruce sick?

You decide to multiply, and it is disgusting. Now that you’ve split in half a bunch of times, what would you like to do?

You continue to multiply, and you become, somehow, even more disgusting. God, look at you—you’re a biological monstrosity. Now what would you like to do?

You’re back inside and stronger than ever. You take your new germ body and fuck and shit all over Bruce’s nose. You take everything you picked up in the nasty outside and use it to go to town on The String Man in a way he’s never felt. But, my God—have you changed too much? Have you, perhaps, become too strong?

You begin to mutate...

...and continue mutating...

...until you become...this. Wow. You’re noticeably spikier, fatter, and more disgusting. What would you like to do now?

You continue to mutate, and you become, somehow, even more disgusting. God, look at you—you’re a biological monstrosity. Now what would you like to do?

You’re back inside and stronger than ever. You take your new germ body and fuck and shit all over Bruce’s nose. You take everything you picked up in the nasty outside and use it to go to town on The String Man in a way he’s never felt. It feels so wrong, yet it feels so right.

“Achoo,” yells Bruce as he stands backstage waiting to go on. Then he lets out a huge sneeze.

“What the hell was that?” yells his wife and bandmate Patti. “Seriously, what was that? I’ve never heard you do that before. You can’t do your concert if you’re doing whatever that was. Jesus.”

“I don’t know what that was,” he whispers back, “and I‘m scared. I’m still gonna do the concert, but if that happens again, I’ll cancel it and then put myself in the hospital.”

Well, Bruce is still going to do the concert! Looks like you better go back and try another way.

You stay where you are! As such, you decide to remain outside Bruce in the gross, disgusting world.

Bruce walks onstage and flexes his big, strong muscles.

“I am so healthy,” Bruce sings to the cheering crowd. “I am so goddamned healthy, and I don’t think I could ever get any healthier.”

Over the course of a 10-hour show (not including encore), Bruce gains over 20 pounds of muscle mass and bench-presses all seven members of his famous band. To close the show, he lifts his wife and bandmate Patti into the air and makes love to her onstage, just like he always does.

Bruce is in the bathroom looking in the mirror. The whole time, he’s singing the words “I hope I never get sick / No, no / No, I love being healthy and going onstage / Which I’m going to do shortly.”

Looks like you’ll need to do more to make The String Man sick!

You choose to go down, and you follow a long, dark tube that Bruce calls the “New Jersey Turnpike.” Suddenly, you reach an impasse. Which way would you like to go?

You choose to go up to the long, dark tube that Bruce calls the “New Jersey Turnpike,” and now you’re back at the impasse. Which way would you like to go?

You leave the stomach and go back to the long, dark tube that Bruce calls the “New Jersey Turnpike.” Suddenly, you reach an impasse. Which way would you like to go?

Great! You went right, and now you’re here inside the stomach! This is where everything that gets stuck in Bruce’s mouth while he’s singing goes to be destroyed. What would you like to do?

Wow, you’re exploring Bruce’s stomach—the stomach of The String Man himself! You bob along in the acid and notice that there’s so much stuff floating around in here, which makes sense because he’s rich, old, and married. What would you like to approach first?

Well, that didn’t do much to get Bruce sick. You’ll have to hurry to get him sick enough to cancel the concert before it’s over.

What would you like to explore next?

You approach the garbage, which is scattered everywhere. Bottles, bones, the seat of a toilet—Bruce seems to eat everything he touches.

“Part of me just wanted to eat a bunch of trash to see if I would get sick,” yells Bruce to the cheering crowd. “But I’ll never get sick. Nothing can get me sick. I’m Bruce Springsteen, healthy god!”

“We love you, Bruce,” yells the crowd in unison. “You’ll never get sick.”

You approach the microphone floating along next to you. It’s been signed by Little Steve. It’s giving off a lot of static and picking up the acid’s sloshing.

“I ate Little Steve’s microphone because I didn’t want him to be stronger than me, and now he never can be,” yells Bruce into his own microphone to a cheering crowd. “I’m gonna do this concert for hours and hours.”

Steve yells something to the crowd, but no one can hear what he’s saying.

You approach the guitar floating along next to you. It’s still in one piece and in mint condition. There’s not really much you can do with it.

Bruce is onstage.

“I ate this guitar because I thought it would make me even healthier and stronger, but it didn’t—it just took away my guitar,” he yells into the microphone. “The good news is that I still feel fine, and I’ll never cancel the concert.”

Bruce is standing backstage at his show. He keeps betting his wife $5,000 that he’ll never get sick and that this will be the best concert of his life.

He’s definitely not sick enough to cancel the concert yet. Get back to it!

Great! You went left, and now you’re here inside the lungs! This is where air goes inside Bruce and gets converted into songs, but is never let out because Bruce does not exhale. What would you like to do?

Bruce is backstage saying how excited he is to perform and telling his wife and bandmate Patti that if he ever gets sick, she should divorce him immediately.

Looks like you’ve got more work to do.

“Hello! I’m a blood cell, which you know unless you’re an idiot,” says the big floating orb. “I live inside the lungs, but I can go anywhere in the body because I am the body’s whore. How can I help you?”

“Oh, the heart! Well, unless you’re a big fat ding-dong, you know that the heart is the best organ,” says the blood cell excitedly. “It controls love and seduction and nothing else. Other than that, it’s basically a big, muscly rock.”

“But hey, because the heart controls love and seduction and the love Bruce shares with his bandmate-slash-wife, I need to make sure you’re not a bad germ,” it says. “So let me ask you: Are you going to do anything dumb while we’re there?”

“Good,” it says, slapping itself into you. “Then let’s get you to the heart, or what scientists call the bloodiest organ.”

“Hop on this big chunk of fat and let’s go!”

You rush through veins...

...and you rush through arteries...

...until you finally reach...

....the heart!

“Hello, I am the heart,” says the heart as you arrive. “I am the one who decided that Bruce should be in love with his red-haired wife.”

“But here’s the thing—my brain is very small, so that’s not permanent. If you can name something that I think is better than Bruce’s wife, I’ll change his mind,” it says. “So, do you think anything is better than Patti?”

“That was nice, but why don’t you try to convince me of something else for Bruce to love?” says the heart.

“Now you’re talking,” says the heart. “This should be nice and sexually interesting.”

“I feel so healthy and in love,” sings Bruce to the crowd as they jump and cheer. “I’ll never have to cancel a concert / No, no / No, no, not tonight / Nothing will ever change / Because I’m healthy and in love.”

Suddenly, Bruce sees a face in the crowd.

“Nothing will ever change / Because I’m healthy and in love,” sings the crowd.

“Oh shit / Something’s different now,” sings Bruce, sticking his mic out to the audience. “I don’t feel so good / And I think I’m gonna leave my wife for this lady who will someday be famous.”

“I don’t feel so good / No, no / Concert is canceled so I can divorce my wife,” sings the crowd.

“That’s a very good point—Bruce is better than his wife,” says the heart. “The problem is, Bruce already loves himself the most, which is how it should be.”

Bruce is just finishing up a stage dive, and the crowd is loving it.

“I love myself more than my wife,” says Bruce into his microphone. “It’s that kind of relationship with myself that makes me so healthy, mentally and physically!”

“You’re so healthy, dude,” says Little Steve. “Someday, I want to love myself like you do.”

“I like where you’re going with this, but there is definitely someone Bruce can love more than Patti,” says the heart. “Patti is great, but let’s get creative.”

Bruce is onstage at his concert.

“I love something more than my wife, but I don’t know what that is yet,” sings Bruce. “No matter who they are, I feel healthy and strong enough to love them.”

Suddenly, an antibody flies in between you.

“Hold on, did you just say you’re gonna do something silly in the heart?” says the antibody, screaming. “That sucks. I didn’t think you were a tiny-schlonged lunkhead, but I guess you are, and now I have to kill you.”

“Well, that’s weird. Why would you, or anyone, ever want to hurt the great Bruce Springsteen?” asks the cell. “I’m the body’s whore, so I’m only supposed to help him, not hurt him. Say...here’s a question, and you have to be honest: Are you a germ?”

Suddenly, an antibody flies in between you.

“Hold on, did you just say you’re a germ?” says the antibody, screaming. “That sucks. I didn’t think you were a tiny-schlonged lunkhead, but I guess you are, and now I have to kill you.”

“Oh, that makes sense. I trust you,” it says. “In that case, the easiest way to get Bruce to have lung problems is to get him to inhale his guitar. Bruce has big lungs, but not so big that they can hold a full guitar. Again, please do not do this.”

“Oh no,” it says. “But you promised you wouldn’t.”

“Great!” it says. “This was a good talk. Thanks for not doing that.”

“I still feel amazing,” says Bruce to himself while pacing backstage at his concert. “I’m so glad I get to perform and also have the perfect body all the time.”

Looks like you still haven’t made Bruce sick yet.

Bruce is backstage with his band, the E Street Men (And Also My Wife), walking around with his mouth open in his pre-concert ritual.

Suddenly, he inhales so much that several things fly off the stage and into his mouth, including his guitar, his wife’s guitar, and all of his bandmates’ clothes.

“Hey Bruce, you seem to be choking on a lot of things at the same time, including but not limited to your guitar,” say drummers Max and Jay Weinberg not even close to simultaneously. “Are you okay to do the concert?”

Bruce just coughs, but gives two thumbs up. Chunks of wood are flying out of his mouth and back into the air, but he’s not sick enough to cancel the concert yet—no, he’s getting ready to go onstage! Looks like you better try something else!

Hell yeah. You have chosen to seduce the blood cell, and that is very sexy. How would you like to seduce the blood cell?

You do that as the blood cell looks on.

“Mama...,” says the blood cell. “Mama...that’s a spicy meatball. I’ve never seen something quite that—ha-cha-cha!”

“Say...wait a minute,” continues the cell, “you don’t look like me at all. Sure, Bruce is sexual, but my god—you’re basically from another planet. Are you sure you’re from around here?”

Suddenly, an antibody flies in between you.

“Hold on, did you just say you’re not from inside sexual Bruce?” says the antibody, screaming. “That sucks, because you seem seductive, but now I have to kill you.”

“I’m coughing,” yells Bruce, standing backstage, before letting out a loud cough. “Oh God, that was my first cough, which I also hope is my last.”

“You’re dead, Bruce’s intruder,” the antibody yells to the tune of “Born In The U.S.A.” as it charges at you. “Say goodbye to Bruce and then die.”

“Oh wait,” Bruce says. “Never mind, now I feel fine. I can’t even remember coughing anymore.”

“Oh, nice, wow, I’m very lucky,” it says. “Say, now that I’ve been seduced, would you like to hear a secret?

“Okay, great. Here is my secret,” says the blood cell. “The easiest way to get Bruce to have lung problems is to get him to inhale his guitar. Bruce has big lungs, but not so big that they can hold a full guitar. Also, please do not do this.”

“Liar! Yes, you do, and here is my secret,” says the blood cell. “The easiest way to get Bruce to have lung problems is to get him to inhale a child’s balloon out of the sky. Bruce has big lungs, but not so big that they can hold a balloon. Also, please do not do this.”

You choose to stay in The Cave, Bruce’s favorite cavity. Suddenly, you hear the first two bars of “Born In The U.S.A.” emanating from two wobbling flaps near the back. Then, silence. What would you like to do?

“Hello, I am the nasty virus who lives inside Bruce’s vocal cords,” says a large, loud infectious agent, emerging from a pile of goop. “I am in charge of singing all of Bruce’s songs and speaking to his wife privately and intimately.”

“Bruce has never been sick before, but I’ve made him say the words ‘I wish I were sick’ many, many times,” it continues. “I really want to make him sick, and it seems like you do too. Which of these options do you think will make him stay home from his concert?”

“That, my friend, is a very good choice,” says the virus. “Let’s make him do it.”

“Hey honey, I was thinking about it, and I really want to cheat on you with every woman I see and then divorce you after every single one,” sings Bruce loudly. “The String Man loves lots of women, but not you, and I want to leave and do as many bad things as I can. I hope you hate me!”

“Bruce, are you feeling all right?” says Bruce’s wife and bandmate Patti. “We have a good marriage and only say nice things to each other. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do your concert?”

“Always ready for a concert, babe,” says Bruce, singing louder this time. “Not sure why I just tried to divorce you like that, but I feel better than ever.”

Well, looks like you definitely had an effect on Bruce, but it didn’t make him sick or cancel his concert. You’ll probably have to leave The Cave to do that!

“That, my friend, is a very good choice,” says the virus. “Let’s make him do it.”

“Okay, so here are all the things I hate about America: I hate that it’s where I was born, I hate that it’s where I’ll die, I hate that it’s where I learned to love, I hate that it’s where I learned about loss, and I also hate all 50 states—especially New Jersey,” says Bruce. “And here’s what I hate about New Jersey: everything.”

“Bruce, that is not a nice thing to say about America,” says Bruce’s wife and bandmate Patti. “What’s wrong? Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do your concert?”

“Always ready, babe,” says Bruce. “Not sure why I just said all that stuff about America, but wow—I feel better than ever.”

“That, my friend, is a very good choice,” says the virus. “Let’s make him do it.”

“New Jersey,” says Bruce.

“Bruce, you just said ‘New Jersey,’” says Bruce’s wife and bandmate Patti. “Last time this happened, you didn’t stop saying ‘New Jersey.’ Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to do your concert?”

“New Jersey,” says Bruce, nodding his head and giving two thumbs up. “New Jersey.”

Bruce is feeling the best he’s ever felt. He’s writing a song to perform at his sold-out concert tonight about how he’s never been sick and hopes he never will be.

This is the house where Bruce lives, also called The Cave. He lives here with his wife and his band, the E Street Men (And Also My Wife). You should zoom in and start focusing on Bruce.

Okay. This is the state that Bruce lives in and is deeply in love with. It’s called New Jersey, but Bruce calls it America.

This is Earth. It’s like a big germ in space, and Bruce is like a germ on that germ.

This is space. Now you’re just being annoying.

This is more space. Cut it out.

Okay, if this is what you want, fine.