So close to the end you can taste it! And yet, no meaningful resolution in sight! Will we ever find out what drove poor Nevipen ‘round the bend? And what is it he’s searching for? Is he just a raving lunatic? And what did those people want with poor Marissa’s body (hint: we’re never going to find out, though I’m sure most people really would not want to know – suffice to say, it’s not particularly relevant to our story)? And what is the deal with that cucumber?
“Could be worse,” John said.
“It can always be worse,” Seth said. “That really doesn’t make me feel any better about how it is, though. Because short of being dead, yes, of course it can always be worse, because you could always be dead. Not really helpful.”
“What’s worse than being on fire?” Mark asked.
“Being on fire and being chased by zombies,” Seth said.
“Zombies make everything worse. Except movies. Those they improve pretty much across the board,” John said. “Even bad zombie movies are good, because, dude, zombies. Actually, especially bad zombie movies are especially good, because they’re so bad they’re good.”
“I’m sure they’ve been some bad zombie movies that are just bad bad,” Mark said. “And really, don’t you think zombies are getting played out? They’re the new vampires. Or maybe vampires were the new zombies. Yeah, because the whole zombie thing was big first, with the glut of movies – Dawn of the Dead, Shaun of the Dead, 28 Days Later… 28 Weeks Later… there were more, why can’t I think of them?”
“You can’t really put Shaun of the Dead in there, it’s in a class of its own,” Seth said.
“True. I’m sure there were a bunch of made for TV zombie movies that were bad,” Mark said.
“No way, dude, those are the most awesome, because they’re the worst! They’re Mystery Science Theater 3000 bad good,” John said.
“Look, all I’m saying is zombies aren’t perfect. They aren’t the end all be all formula for a good movie. Can you imagine zombies making Casablanca better?” Mark asked.
“Casablanca? That’s what you pull off the top of your head? Dude,” Seth said.
“Shut up, I study film. It’s a classic,” Mark said. “Spaceball, then. Or National Treasure. Would those have been better with zombies?”
“Well, yes,” Seth said. John nodded in agreement.
“You two are just like the Twihards,” Mark said. “Only, you know, with zombies. Zombhards?”
“At least zombies never sparkled,” John said. “So it’s still not at bad as the vampire crap.”
“What if they were pixie zombies? They’d sparkle, but could still be… well, I suppose they’re still pixies, so maybe not scary, unless pixie zombies are like… evil gnomes.” Seth picked up the game controller and started scrolling through the game menu.
“Dude, then they’d be gnomes. Zombie gnomes. And they wouldn’t sparkle,” John said.
“Aren’t pixies the evil ones? And fairies are the good ones?” Mark asked. “Or is it the other way around?”
“Isn’t that Disney thing called Pixie Hollow? I can’t imagine pixies are evil, I mean other than Disney being… what?” John broke off as the other two stared at him. “It’s my sister, dudes, it’s all she talks about.”
“Right…” Mark said. “That’s it, sure.”
“It is, she obsessed with that web site. And when my folks are gone, I’m supposed to monitor her web usage. It’s scarred me, I tell you.” John clutched his chest dramatically.
“Yes, that’s a fate worse than death,” Seth said dryly.
“I thought we already determined that nothing was worse than death,” Mark said. “That was the benchmark.”
“It’s just an expression, doofwad,” Seth said.
“Well, it’s a dumb expression,” Mark said.
“Bite me,” Seth said. “Now, are you two going to play, or sit around gabbing like a group of fishwives all evening?”
“I dunno, mocking John for a little longer might be fun,” Mark said.
“More fun than Rock Band?” Seth asked. He threw the drumsticks at Mark.
Mark caught them, and twirled them in his hands. “I’d rather be playing for real,” he groused.
“We all would, but if the neighbors call the cops on us one more time, we’re going to be in real trouble. Until we can find a place to practice where no one will be bothered by the noise, we’re stuck with this,” Seth said. He tossed the microphone to John. “Ready?”
“Ready,” John said.
Mark picked up the drumsticks and started tapping out a rhythm. Rat a tat tat tat a rat a tat tat tat a rat a tat tat tat… Seth was about to strike the opening chords on his guitar when a screeching noise outside made them stop cold. It was a hideous sound, like… someone being pulled by their testicles, backwards, though a rip in the space time continuum.
Seth put down his guitar and walked slowly to the window.
“Uh, guys, you’re not going to believe this,” he said.
Mark and John moved to stand next to him at the window.
“Whoa,” John said.
“Ouch,” Mark said.
All three covered their crotches with their hands as they watched a naked man being dragged backwards through a rip in the space time continuum by a man in a Viking costume. As soon as both men were through, the rip closed with a snap, and the only thing left on the pavement was a cucumber of rather unusually large size.
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