Continued from chapter one : The Night Of The Twerking Dead
After barfing in the young paramedic’s face , I wanted to crawl under a rock and just die. I didn’t mean to do it. The fact that I was feeling queasy from the cut on my head , and the disgust I felt at the twerkers , I just couldn’t help myself. It came without warning.
The young man was more embarrassed than I was. I apologized , and he mumbled , “forget about it. It can happen to anybody.”
I called Paul from the hospital to come pick me up. He brought Aubrey and Scarlet with him. The cop who had taken my information about the accident , was leaving as they arrived.
“Mom , are you alright? ” Aubrey said. “You’re not in trouble , are you?”
“No , I’m fine. I just ran into the living dead , and almost killed a few zombies … literally. “
“Obama supporters ,” I said.
Paul passed wind , a particularly loud wind. It was like an ocean breeze , carrying with it a fishy stench. I had no doubt that if we had been at the beach , this particular stench would have killed all the marine life for miles around.
“Jeez , dad! Do you have to do that here?”
“Yeah , Paul , cut it out! You’re stinking up the place!”
“Sorry. I just can’t help myself. Every time I hear Obama’s name I … can’t help myself.”
Several people in the waiting area looked at us in disgust. No doubt they had also heard it.
“I need to pick up my car ; it’s been towed away.”
“I’ll pick it up , mom ,” Scarlet said.
“Alright. But if you happen to see any Obama twerking zombies out there , try not to run them over ,” I said. “God knows I tried not to.”
“Sorry , mom , can’t make any promises.”