Everyone Un-Died + My Gardener Bit Me: The Oral History of the Zombie Apocalypse

The Lucas Letters (Part 2)

Dear Stephanie,

We interviewed a Flamethrower Rights Activist. She was hard core. If you're wondering why so many buildings are burning to the ground, that's why. It's called freedom.

And, um, so I do have a few questions about the new arrangement with Shirtless Lars, which I was hoping to discuss in person, but Aaron still won't let me out of my cage "for my own good." In any case, I have a million questions. Where is he Shirtless Lars sleeping? And... you know, I guess I only have one question.

Regards,

Lucas

P.S. Did you notice how I didn't bring up the topic underarm hair? I'm maturing!

—————————

Dear Lucas,

In answer to your question, Shirtless Lars sleeps in the guest room.

And since you are maturing, I think it's time to talk about the thing I wanted to talk about. I think we should have an open relationship. It makes sense given how long we've been apart, and how much longer we're likely to stay apart. And besides, with the future looking so precarious, we should embrace whatever pleasure might come our way.

What do you think?

Best,

Stephanie

—————————

Dear Stephanie,

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No...

NOTE: This continues for several hundred pages, in various formats and designs, like Jack Torrence's "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" in The Shining. Also, I made a command decision to not mail that to Stephanie. I was honestly trying to help — the last thing Lucas needed was to come off like a lunatic — but as you'll see, there were unintended consequences.

—————————

Dear Lucas,

What is going on? It has been two weeks and I haven't gotten a reply from you! I won't lie. It really hurts me. Honestly, I thought we had a more mature relationship than that!

I've been very depressed lately. I have been tempted to fall into the arms of Pantless Lars (he's really made himself at home) just to take my mind off of my depression. I try to stay strong, but it's hard. It's worst around 12:30 when the mailman comes to my door and I hope against hope that you will finally have broken your cruel silence. I eagerly ask him if I have gotten a letter from you. But again and again the answer is no.

Finally, I had a meltdown in front of the mailman. I burst into tears and he comforted me and, well, one thing led to another and I had sex with the mailman. And then I was so depressed about what I had done, I had sex with Pantless Lars. And then a few firemen, to thank them for helping put out another flamethrower induced fire. It really boosted their morale, but not mine. I am sad and exhausted.

Sleepily,

Stephanie

—————————

Dear Stephanie,

You know what they say about payback, right? Well, I got me some! That's right! I bet you didn't think I had it in me! Well you underestimated me, baby! Because last night during my personal Lucas time, I didn't imagine that I was having sex with you. Instead, I imagined that I was sex with another woman! A better woman, a woman you couldn't compete with, a woman with shaved armpits! Her name is Natasha Romanova (aka Black Widow)! I don't generally like to brag, but I imagined the hell out of her!

Stings, don't it?

Spitefully,

Lucas

—————————

Dear Lucas,

You cheated on me? You really are not the man I thought you were!

Disappointedly,

Stephanie

—————————

Dear Stephanie,

I cheated on you? Ha! That's a laugh! You're the one who had sex with a half-dozen different people! (And probably a lot more by now!)

Unapologetically,

Lucas

—————————

Dear Lucas,

It's not the same! I don't care about those people. I care about you. And I'll let you in on a little secret: Yes, I was technically having sex with them, but I was thinking about you the whole time!

But you do care about Black Widow! To a degree that is really unhealthy, if we're being totally honest. And that's who you were thinking about. Flesh is flesh. Flesh is fun, especially covered in whipped cream. But it's the mind that matters.

Crushed,

Stephanie

—————————

Dear Stephanie,

I'll be honest, too. You terrify me. I never thought I'd ever meet a woman like you. I certainly never dreamed that a woman like you would like me. And I guess that's why I cling too much and nitpick. It gives me a sense of control. Because I know that you could do a million times better than me and I don't want you to know that. And the truth is that I don't think I'm strong enough to share you with anyone. And if that's too much to ask, I understand.

Love,

Lucas

—————————

Dear Lucas,

Things are getting really sketchy around here. Zombies are everywhere, it seems. Pantless Lars was killed today and it's kind of my fault. I showed him 300 on DVD and he thought it was "rad". And he decided to use the leaping in the air move to dispatch some zombies, but he tripped and instead of leaping he just face-planted and crumbled to the ground right in front of them and they dogpiled on top of him.

I think I heard him say, "It's an honor to die at your side," to me, but it was hard to hear with so many zombies eating his intestines. (The noises they make when they chew are beyond disgusting.) Apparently, great abs don't provide as much anti-zombie protection as we assumed.

Because of all the zombies, and now the recently announced quarantine, this might be my last letter for some time. I want you to know that you are a good man. And I am in no way better than you. But there is something in me that keeps me looking towards the horizon. Sexual FOMO, I guess. But believe me, I wish there was something I could do, something anyone could do, to ensure that I could be with you, and only you, forever.

Love always,

Stephanie

—————————

You can't imagine the way poor Lucas bawled when he read that letter. He was convinced that he was going to lose the only woman who ever cared about him. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't sleep, and he definitely wouldn't fact check. Something needed to be done. And I had an idea.