The Walking Deceased Page #4

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- Baby. I'm so sorry.

- It's okay.

- I'm sorry I left you.

- I forgive you.

It was just overrun, that hospital.

We just had to barricade your door

and just pray you were gonna be okay.

- I'm okay!

- Praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

Bet that's the only time

that's been said from the pole.

Ed, you fat lard, get over to the bar,

and help yourself

- to a big fat bowl of shut the f*** up!

- Language, Chris!

Baby, we're way beyond language

being a problem here.

Is there going to be a show or what?

We've been waitin' hours to see her.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, guys!

Show is over, all right?

Now go find another place

to waste your life.

We'll just go back to the Winchester.

Their happy hour isn't complete shite

like this fine establishment!

Oh, no!

Oh, my God, honey. Stay with me.

Oh, not your boob!

There's gotta be something we can do!

Somebody do something!

God, I wasn't talking about that!

I was talking about

cutting her boob off!

Nobody pays top dollar

to see a one-boob stripper.

Oh, no, no!

No!

No!

It's the world we live in now.

Take a minute. Breathe deep.

I gotta go put out an ad

for a headliner with double Ds.

- Try Craigslist.

- Oh, yeah, and here's your Colt.

Didn't want some douche-bag doctor

stealing it whilst you were coma-ed out.

You're a good shot, son.

It's funny? I couldn't hit a ball off

a tee before the apocalypse, and now...

I can get a bullet between

the eyes like it's nothing.

It's f***ing hilarious!

Listen up.

I met these two guys at the hospital.

They're camped out at the mall.

Bald redneck and jumpy little sh*t

that shoots like a girl?

- Yeah, that's them.

- They came in here once.

Redneck was motorboating Mom,

so I kicked their asses out.

All right.

- We're gonna hit the mall then.

- You think this place can just run itself?

You're 12 years old. You shouldn't

even know about strip joints!

So now you want to be my dad!

Where you been when I needed you?

I was in a f***ing coma because of you!

- We're heading to the mall.

- Fine.

We'll load everything in my truck out back.

I could drive now. Tossed my V-card, too.

One for my homeboys.

Let's hit it.

All right, have a good watch.

Front entrance is clear, just some

kid zoms dragging Build-A-Bears.

I loved my Build-A-Bear.

He had a cape and a baseball cap.

His name was Super Shortstop, 'cause he

was like half the size of the other bears.

- Supes adorbs.

- How have you survived so long?

Don't fall asleep.

I want at least four hours.

Copy that.

- Enjoy your swimsuit edition.

- It's a hunting magazine, obviously.

There's dead deer and blood and guts

and fishhooks and manly stuff.

- All right, whatever you say, little b*tch.

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