These Brains are Making Me Thirsty (5-4-18)


[EU] As an unexpected twist to boost ratings, the zombie apocalypse breaks out on a TV sitcom (Friends, The Office, Parks & Rec, HIMYM, etc.) [Link to post.]

“So? Did you break up with him?” Jerry sat on the edge of his blue sofa seat and listened to Elaine’s story with great interest. Elaine finished her story with a dismissive wave and sat back on the bigger couch.

“Nah, it’s not much of a change. He just sits there.” Elaine clenched her fists in front of her. “STARING. I told you about the flight from Europe, right?” Jerry nodded.

“Yeah, the tomato pizza guy,” Jerry said with a half smile.

“Vegetable lasagna,” Elaine replied curtly, then shrugged. “I’ll kill him when he starts to stink.” 

“Obviously,” Jerry agreed. The intercom by the door sounded; Jerry stood from the couch then walked to answer it. “Yeah?”

“It’s George.” George’s defeated voice came through the tinny speaker.

“C’mon up,” Jerry said, then unlocked the door. 

“He sounds rough,” Elaine said. “Maybe you shouldn’t let him in?” Elaine stood from her seat on the couch and moved to the sofa seat, further away from the door. 

“Nah, George would tell us.” Jerry said just as George walked into the apartment. His head hung low. “How ’bout it, Georgie. You’d tell us if you got bit, right?” Jerry asked as he sat down on the blue couch.

“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” George wandered into the kitchen, then looked up from the floor to stare at Jerry and Elaine from over the breakfast bar. “My parents were infected.” He dropped the bomb, then followed it up after a pregnant pause. “I think they’re faking it.” 

“What? No way.” Elaine said, she scooted forward on her seat.

“Why would they do that?” Jerry asked. 

“Last night my ma said she wouldn’t want me staying there if they became zombies. Then this morning,” George raised his voice and used his arms to gesture angrily. ” ‘Lo and behold, they’re zombies!” Kramer walked in during George’s outburst.

“Who’s a zombie?” he asked. 

“The Costanzas,” Elaine said.

“They’re faking!” George was quick to clarify. Kramer smiled and shook his head.

“Oh that Frank,” Kramer walked over and clapped George on the shoulder. “He’s wiley.” George ignored him and turned his attention back to Jerry.

“We eating?” George asked. 

“Nope, I’m out.” Kramer tossed a keyring onto the counter, then lifted his left hand up. The side opposite his thumb was covered by a big band-aid. “Newman got me.” 

“Newman!” Jerry clenched his fist and cursed under his breath. 

“You get all my stuff, buddy.” Kramer pointed at Jerry.

“Sure.” Jerry shrugged. “What are you gonna do? You want one of us to,… you know…” 

“Nah, I’m gonna go live on a farm. You know, my friend Bob Sacamano? He’s training zombies as farm workers.” Kramer squatted partly and mimed as if he were placing something heavy on his shoulders. “I’m gonna pull a plow.” Kramer smiled at them, waved good bye, then walked out of Jerry’s apartment. 

“Food?” Jerry asked. Elaine rose from the couch. 

“How can I prove they’re faking?” George wondered aloud as they walked out the door. 

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