Where Gaynip Has Nightmares About Zombies

This hardly seems fair since it was Clinker who watched the zombie movie last night not me.  I watched “Up” (cute movie – Kevin is adorable) so if anything I should have dreamed of zeppelins, balloons, talking dogs or squirrels.

My dream starts with the the really nice company SUV parked outside what looks to be a duplex, driveway on the right hand side.  All the doors are open and the back window is gone.  Beside it is a shopping cart (empty) and the GPS has been stolen.  I am panicky because I can’t find Ilanikhan and I need to find her before the zombies do.  I don’t remember how I found her, but eventually I find her.  Oddly, she’s stockpiling guns.  That was great because I remember in my dream being very upset that I wouldn’t know where to find a gun (maybe a cop shop) and cursing myself for never getting around to reading the survival guide.  I even had it on audio book for the love of Mike!

Anyway, she’s packin’ heat like  Lara Croft or Mr.T or something.  Guns abound.  I don’t know where she got them.  I didn’t ask.  I insisted on stopping at a moto-cross bike shop because (I don’t know if this is strictly true in dream) some of the outfits have padding/armor built into it.  So I was all gussed up in this neon green outfit, goggles and couldn’t figure out what to do about my head.  One part of me wanted to have a helmet to protect my brain and the other part of me was worried it would block out sound.  I think I opted for no helmet.

We eventually meet up with everybody else.  Truckin’ along, nothing is really happening.  We keep stopping to loot places.  We looted a Tim Horton’s and a Starbucks.  I don’t have to tell you who’s idea THAT was.  Because the back window of the Tribute was out, I stole a Toyota from a dealership instead, where the back window of the SUV was power, like all the others.  Very awesome if you’re sitting in the back with a gun picking off zombies.

Naturally, because it was the zombie apocalypse, there was a zombie fight.  Details are sketchy at best, but we won, and I got bitten.  Now, instead of being the cowardly asshole who gets infected and keeps it to himself, I pick up a sword (don’t ask) and tell everyone I’ve been infected (wrist area) and that I’m going to kill myself.  I am about to plunge down on said sword (a medieval one – I’m reading “Fools and Jesters at the English Court” and there’s an illumination of guy doing himself in on a sword…while a jester pokes him with a bladder stick … ANYWAY).  Only no one wants me to do that.  Instead they all get into this argument about what to do to save me.

There is a long shouting match about cutting off my arm to stop the spread of infection.  I point out, at the top of my lungs, “That never happens in the zombie movies!  Besides, you idiots, none of you are doctors.  I’ll bleed to death instead!”  There’s more fighting about cauterizing the wound so I won’t.

Cortejo doesn’t want to kill me.  She’s pretty upset about it.  Ilani says, “She’ll eat your face first if she changes!” and I think that’s rather comical in dream (and out) because it’s true.  Finally, they come to the conclusion that I do need to die, but compromise with something humane.  The vet’s office.  They tie me up, just in case I change fast.  Put me on the “operating table” and tie me down.  I’m not crying but I’m a little pissed off at how completely undignified and cowardly this all is.  Somebody in the group knows about vet stuff, and they inject me with the ‘blue goo’.  It’s a slow process, kind of like going to sleep.  Someone is stroking my hair and saying things to me.  Then blackness.

I woke up in a start.  Blankets and pillows everywhere.  I scared the shit out of the cat.  I was all sweaty and confused.  But the fog lifted and I’m not a zombie.

This is a comment to all of my friends:  If I do the responsible thing and TELL you when I get bitten after a zombie fight don’t stand around hemming and hawing like a bunch of indecisive old hens!!  Pick up the nearest gun and blow my infected brains out!  Don’t stand around debating whether or not sawing off my infected arm will prevent the change.  If that was possible, the movies already would have thought of it.  None of you are doctors (okay actually I know like 2 but they live on the East Coast so that excludes them from this) I will still die, probably of massive blood loss.  Furthermore, won’t you feel stupid when you wake up to me eating one of our mutual friends faces?  Unless you never really liked that guy, in which case you’re probably secretly happy but also secretly worried you won’t be able to hide your elation from the group.  In any case, you’ll have to shoot me then, and get brains all over your newly stolen sleeping bag.

Do the right thing!  Friends don’t let friends become zombies!

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3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Cloves
    Jul 16, 2010 @ 09:21:21

    “friends don’t let friends become zombies” this is a t-shirt slogan if ever i heard one.
    If your crafty self ever makes this proposed shirt happen, please let me know!
    I’d wear it proudly. :-)

    Reply

  2. cloves
    Jul 17, 2010 @ 06:14:01

    bwahahahaha…..uhm…large-ish I guess. :-)

    Reply

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