OK, people. This is huge! There is no way to overstate the magnitude of what just happened. Clem Boykins, national icon and presidential candidate, was just bitten by a zombie! And I was there in his final moments.
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Well, fuck a duck.
Pass. So how did it happen?
What's with the trick question?
That wasn't a trick question.
Son, when you drink as much as I do, everything is a trick question.
Fair enough. So tell me what you do recall.
I remember Wednesday 'cause that's when I buy my ticket for the Powerball.
Um... They haven't had the Powerball since the Robot Apocalypse.
Well, no wonder I never win.
Mystery solved. And what else do you remember?
I remember waking up in a petting zoo. Or maybe a regular zoo. Whichever one has the dinosaurs?
None of them, I assume.
It'll come to me.
So you were in a zoo ...?
And I feel teeth on the back of my neck. At first it felt pretty good. You know, like a hickey? Reminded me of Junior High. Then the teeth clamped down and tore some flesh right off me, which also reminded me of Junior High. Joyce Flower and her braces. It was like she was eating corn on the cob with metal teeth.
How do you feel about becoming a zombie?
Eh. I don't mind that. Just the timing was lousy.
How so?
Well, everything was going really good. I did great in the debates and I'm on TV a lot and I even got me a campaign manager.
What is his name?
It's a her.
Really?
Yeah. She's a pro.
Oh, Jesus. You bought a hooker as your campaign manager?
First of all, you don't buy hookers, son, you rent them.
Duly noted.
And this gal is a legit campaign manager.
Huh. But didn't you say you didn't want a campaign manager?
I don't know. Did I?
You did.
I'll take your word for it. But let me tell you this lady has something.
Talent? Experience?
Great ass-movers.
I'm sorry... what?
Ass-movers. Legs. Legs move your ass.
I didn't realize that was an expression.
It ain't. I'm trying to get it started.
Might be a little late now. OK, so you like her... ass-movers.
They're amazing. Especially for an older lady.
I didn't think you'd go for older women.
They're great. They know what they're doing, you can't get them pregnant, and you don't have to worry about a surprise visit from Aunt Flo.
So that's why you hired her?
No. She also got those big saggy boobs, which is a plus.
Why is that a plus?
Well, as you can see, I'm not the tallest guy in the world, but with a Droopy Julie I can motorboat her without having to stand on my tip toes.
And they say romance is dead.
Hey! I've been the perfect gentleman. I never even touched her. And you know why?
Because she wouldn't let you?
Yeah. This is why I don't understand women. I mean, you'd think they'd be lining up for a chance to be motor boated by the next President of the United States.
Bitches be crazy, I guess.
You bet your ass-movers, they are.
Anyway... what's the name of your campaign manager?
I don't know.
Of course.
Hey, I can't be expected to remember the names of everyone on my staff.
There are just two of you.
I stand by my statement.
Have you thought about how Marietta will react to this news?
I'm sure she's pretty happy with herself. But she won't get away with it.
Get away with... what, exactly?
Making me into a zombie.
I'm sorry. You're saying Marietta is responsible?
Yes, I am.
Do you have any evidence that she did this?
Do you have any evidence that she didn't?
I do, actually. She was halfway across the country at a campaign rally. There's TV footage, magazine and newspaper pictures, radio appearances.
I ain't buying it.
It's the perfect alibi.
A little too perfect, if you ask me.
Come on, Clem. Literally every second of her trip was thoroughly documented!
That's what's so suspicious, son! Why did she feel the need to account for every single second if she wasn't up to no good? Innocent people don't do that. I mean, do you know where you were every moment of every day? I don't. Hell, there are entire decades that I completely forget. I have no recollection at all of the eighties.
You didn't miss much. Still, though, how would she be able to slip away unnoticed?
Because she was never there in the first place!
You are out of your mind!
You never hear of a body double, son?
Come on. I've seen Marietta in person and I saw the footage of her trip. It sure looked like her.
Oh, it was a good likeness, I'll give you that. Except for one thing.
Which was?
The ass-movers.
What about them?
Marietta's ass-movers are meaty. The double's was spindly. Definitely not the same woman.
You're a hundred percent sure about that?
Hell to the yeah, son! Trust me. I know my ass-movers. I'm an ass-movers man.
I don't know. Still seems very far-fetched.
Well, you have to admit that she's capable of anything, including murder.
Possibly, but she uses a sword and you were bitten by a zombie.
She could have used her sword to make a wound that looked like a zombie bite.
Sure, I guess, but a sword that makes a wound that looks like a zombie won't turn you into a zombie... and you're turning into a zombie.
She could have captured a zombie and he got his zombie juice on her sword, and then used her sword to make a wound that looked like a zombie bite and would also turn me into a zombie. You gotta admit. It fits all the facts.
(Sigh) OK, fine. If the Marietta we saw was a perfect double—
Except for the ass-movers!
—and she slipped unnoticed into your zoo, I guess—
Because I was drunk as shit.
—where she made a zombie bite mark with her katana—
After getting zombie juice all over it.
—and slipped away unseen—
Once again, so goddam drunk.
—then yes, she is a vicious criminal.
That's what I'm saying.
Incredible. You can come up with an elaborate conspiracy theory, but you are still stumped by the question, "What happened yesterday?"
Jurassic Park.
What about it?
I wasn't in a zoo, I was watching Jurassic Park in my reck room when I got "bit."
You have a reck room?
I don't think so.
But you're certain that Marietta did this to you.
No doubt in my mind. She's a murderer.
Not technically. See, according to the law, there is no difference between zombies and people. So while in reality, you're changing into a zombie, legally speaking, you'll be exactly the same.
God, I hate lawyers. When I'm president, I'm going to do away with the lot of them.
Hate to break it to you, Clem, but you're not going to be President.
Why not?
Because you'll be a zombie?
So what?
First off, you won't really be you.
I'll be me enough.
And second: Nobody is going to vote for a zombie President.
You really believe that?
I have to believe that. If I didn't, I'd throw myself off a bridge.
[At this point, Clem got that familiar faraway look in his high that signaled his transition was almost complete.]
Any final words, Clem?
Ass-movers! Rrrrr!