Marty Made It

“Ah, it ain’t that bad,” Dan joked.  He proceeded to cough blood.  “At least you stopped the zombies. You saved us all.”

“It’s just you and me, Dan. We’re all that’s left,” Marty said.

Dan lay propped against a ram shackle chicken coop, knowing his final moments were upon him.  Marty knelt, weeping and shaking.

“Wait, wait. Seriously?” Dan asked.  He shimmied himself to be more upright and looked Marty right in the eyes.  “You’re going to be the sole survivor of this? Boy howdy, that’s terrible luck.”

“What?” Marty was confused.

“Years of therapy await you, buddy.  Man, talk ’bout ‘pity the living’, eh?  Shoot, I bet you even have to be an on-set consultant when this whole thing becomes a summer weekend blockbuster movie.  You’re going to have to relive this.  I cannot image,” Dan stopped to spit out a tooth, “And what about your relationships going forward? Now any one can be super crazy.  Worse, now you know that any one can be taken from you at any given moment.  Dang, kid, you ain’t ever leaving the house again.”

“Dan this is not exactly the final moment between us I was expecting,” Marty rambled.

“Good golly, I bet the smell of fresh cut grass will bring you right back to this time and place.  You’re always going to have to hire out for tree trimming now. No more chainsaws for you, bucko.  I bet you become a vegetarian too,” Dan dramatically sent his gaze to his exposed organs, “hoooooo doggie. Sole survivor, I tell you what, that’s a bum rap right there.”

“Dan, I think you’re in shock. Why don’t we watch the sunset until…it’s….over,” Marty suggested.

“Ain’t that just the thing though? It’ll never be over for you.  If Hollywood is any indication, you’ll be back for the sequel too.  You’ll have to do this again.  Probably on the set of the ‘based on real events’ movie you’ll consult on, but we discussed that already.  Jimminy crickets! Marty! Don’t make new friends.  The movies say you’re next bff is doomed. Doooooommmed!” Dan grabbed Marty’s hand to accentuate the point.

“This isn’t a movie, Dan,” Marty reminded the mortally wounded friend.

“Still. Take care of yourself, okay?  You’ve gone through some stuff and your well being matters.  You matter,” Dan said, holding Marty;s hand a little tighter.

“Thanks?” Marty was experiencing some strange emotions.

“And Marty,” Dan continued, “get someone attractive to play me in the movie.  They don’t need to be talented.  Like, mid-week day time soap star talent with a CW prime-time jaw line. Can you do that for me, Mr. Executive Producer? Can you?”

“Sure, buddy. Jaw line that can cut glass,” Marty assured Dan.

“Thank, man. And find someone slightly less attractive to play you, okay? Have to keep this realistic afterall,” Dan said before coughing some more.

“You got it,” Marty complied as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Dan’s eyes closed for the final time and Marty prepared to face one final zombie.

———–

This is why “rebuilding society of the zombie apocalypse” films would be terrible.

This got dark. I’ve been binge watching The Walking Dead. Apologies.

Thanks for reading.

 

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