7-14-21 - Overcompensating Sub

 Overcompensating Sub

IDEA - 7-14-21

by

Patrick Ryan

Mr. Vance is filling in for Mrs. Quinn's seventh-grade history class the day before Halloween. His taking over is remarkable in that his previous post was with the school of magic. Mr. Vance was actually suspended from the school of magic for teaching unauthorized spells to students, which resulted in disastrous results such as students running around with each other's heads, magic carpets crashing onto well-manicured lawns, and invisibility spells that left students searching for themselves; it took days and multiple psychiatrists to find them. The bottom line was Mr. Vance was a historian of magic, not a wizard himself, even if he thought otherwise.

Mrs. Quinn had to leave unexpectedly due to a health issue, putting the school in a bind. Mr. Vance needed the money and happen to get double certified in magic and US History at the University of Grenada; which was why he found himself in front of twenty-seventh graders on this gray Tuesday morning.

"Good morning everyone, turn your history books to page 93; we're going to look at the Gettysburg Address today," Mr. Vance said flatly to his class of 7th graders, who looked as if they had just been asked to solve cold fusion.

Mr. Vance struggles as he tries to convince his students to recite the address.

"All right, everyone, repeat after me once again; now we are engaged in a great civil war..."

Only a few students recited the sentence, and one even dropped out of his chair onto the floor and then fell asleep. Mr. Vance looked up at the clock, and he noticed that only five minutes had passed in this 90-minute period.

Mr. Vance groans so deeply that the neighboring town may sense his dissatisfaction with the lesson's progress, and he closes his book.

"OK, tomorrow is Halloween, right?" Mr. Vance inquired.

The class comes to life for the first time since Mr. Vance entered the room, several students nod, and the student on the floor even startles himself awake.

"They probably don't want me to tell you this, but my background isn't necessarily in US History, but in the history of magic," Mr. Vance said as the class's interest level rose a notch.

"Halloween is a unique time for people in the magical realm; in fact, it is the one night when a dead witch or wizard can rise again and use their magic," Mr. Vance explained. He suddenly has the entire class's attention.

"How do we know you aren't lying to us?" a student in the back asked.

Mr. Vance raises his hands above his head.

"flos fumus," he said, as smoke rose from his palms in the shape of a flower and swiftly dissipated.

The students' eyes widen, and a slew of hands rise to ask a question. One of the girls in the first-row had her mouth wide open in amazement and slowly dropped her history book off her desk.

"Is there anything else you can do?" one student inquired.

"Is Harry Potter real?" inquired another student.

"Can you tell us more about witches and wizards?" a final student inquired.

"All right, all right, magic is no joke; it takes years to perfect even the most basic spells; Harry Potter existed but was grossly overrated, a C student at most," Mr. Vance explained.

"Can you teach us a simple spell?" a student inquired.

"I'll do better than that; legend has it that if you can capture a dead witch or wizard on Haloween night, you can absorb their powers for yourself, eliminating the need to study and practice; the realm of magic opens up to you!" Mr. Vance said.

"How do you catch a dead wizard or witch?" a student inquired.

Mr. Vance recognizes he may have opened a Pandora's Box and attempts to withdraw the issue he introduced.

"It's dangerous; forget I said anything about it; in fact, we should go back to the Gettysburg Address," Mr. Vance said.

The class is about to erupt, it's absolutely out of control, and they're not going to take no for an answer. Mr. Vance gives in for fear of the administration coming down due to the noise.

"Your best chance of seeing one would be to go to a graveyard; they're most powerful between midnight and 3 a.m., the witching hour; their power decreases swiftly after that," Mr. Vance said as the bell rang and the students scurried out of the classroom. 

Mr. Vance pauses for a while, then gives an uncomfortable expression, regretting telling 7th graders about the supernatural undead.

Mr. Vance clung to Mrs. Quinn's lesson plan like it was cemented to his forehead for the rest of the day, no matter how boring he thought it was. He was desperate not to lose his job after one day.

After school, he obsessively thought about that one class in which he may have made a major blunder. To save his butt, he went to the town graveyard at midnight to turn away any students who thought they could catch a dead wizard or witch.

Mr. Vance walks around the cold, dark graveyard, checking his watch for the time.

"1:30 a.m., why did you have to tell them about the graveyard, you idiot? It's such a rare occurrence anyhow; now I have to get up in 4 hours and do it all over again," Mr. Vance grumbles said to himself.

Suddenly, as he's inspecting the last row of gravestones, a witch appears as a corpse.

Mr. Vance's eyes widen; this is a completely unexpected incident. Greed enters his mind; if he could capture this witch and seize her powers, he could quit teaching for good.

He raised his hands above his head once more and yelled,

"glacio!" In an attempt to freeze the witch in place.

Mr. Vance was a historian, not a wizard; thus nothing occurred. The witch chuckles.

"What do we have here? It appears you're attempting to capture me and steal my powers; I know you're not coming at me with that weak stuff," the witch said.

Mr. Vance tries to flee.

"Not so fast," she responded, casting a spell that brought Mr. Vance right back in front of her.

"I have to wait 365 days to utilize my power; I'm going to make the most of it," she said in a treacherous tone.

That night, the witch subjected Mr. Vance to a slew of agonizing, unnatural, and downright lewd acts. She made him fall in love with her and snuggle, made him act like a chicken for a half-hour straight, and, of course, had him recite the Gettysburg Address 50 times in a row.

After 3 a.m., the witch began to lose her power and released him, allowing him to return home.

Mr. Vance slept for one hour that night and looked like a zombie when he arrived at school the next morning.

The first-period bell rang, and Mr. Vance stood in front of the same students he had informed about the graveyard the day before.

He inquired, "How come none of you came to the graveyard last night?"

"None of us would be that stupid; we knew you were lying," said one student.

"Yeah, so you can do some David Copperfield thing with smoke; no big deal, my brother can make a coin appear out of his nose. That doesn't mean we're going to a graveyard in the middle of the night; who's dumb enough to do that?" another student said.

"Right, how dumb do you have to be to go to a graveyard in the middle of the night?" said Mr. Vance, in an uneasy tone.

"Please open your books to page 93; we'll go through the Gettysburg Address again today," Mr. Vance said as he vomited a little bit in his mouth due to the witch’s torture from the night before. 

“On second thought, turn to page 210, we are going to study the Geneva Convention; it is important to know that torture is wrong.”

7-13-21 - Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry

 Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry

IDEA - 7-13-21

by

Patrick Ryan

Amy sits on a park bench across the street from The Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry, a diet organization that her sister joined over six months ago. Amy is suspicious as she observes individuals come and go with some sort of prescription. The issue is that her sister, Kerri, joined the organization and then subsequently devoted her entire life to them.

Kerri had separated entirely from her life, disowning her family, blowing off her friends, and spending long periods of time working for the Sisterhood. Amy had a sneaking suspicion that the Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry was a cult. 

Amy spotted Kerri walking down the street a few weeks ago; when Amy approached her, Kerri brushed her off, calling her a "sabotager." To the organization's credit, Kerri looks great; she's shed about 50 pounds, is healthy, and even appears younger!

But Amy can't get her mind off the feeling that something isn't quite right with that organization. In her research, she discovered other stories similar to her sister's: of people who wanted to lose weight but ended up disowning everyone in their lives and now work for the diet organization. 

Amy devised a plan and spent the last few weeks bingeing on cheesecake, burgers, and pizza, gaining over ten pounds in the process. She was going to The Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry to gather the dirt she needed to persuade her sister to leave.

Amy walks into the building; encounters the sound of soothing music, and is met by a young, skinny, supermodel-looking woman.

"Welcome to The Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry; how may we assist you today?" The receptionist says.

"I'd want to join your weight loss program," Amy adds, looking around for Kerri, who isn't there.

"Of course, we provide a free evaluation of your mental, physical, and metaphysical health. I'll have one of our sisters bring you back for a closer look," she says as two more supermodel women accompany Amy into the back.

Amy waits in one of the most luxurious exam rooms she's ever seen. Another supermodel appears, this time a doctor.

Amy was subjected to a battery of examinations, including a physical examination, a psychiatric evaluation, and, for some reason, an algebra exam. They give her a complimentary bottle of their supplements at the end of the examination; this is the prescription she'd seen folks leave the facility with the other day.

As she walks back to her apartment, she mulls about whether she should take the supplements. All she could think about was Kerri; if she wanted to find out what was going on, she needed to join the cult. Amy took the prescription as directed, and the pills tasted just like her favorite foods. Amy began to lose weight, eliminate wrinkles and other symptoms of aging, and develop abs, which was surprising given that she hadn't exercised since the Clinton administration.

Amy remained determined, and the moment had come to gather some dirt on this group. She needed to refill her prescription, so she had to return to the office.

This time, to refill her prescription, she had to participate in a group discussion with other organization members. They used no names, like Alcoholics Anonymous, members had to resign themselves to a higher authority; in this case, The Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry was that higher power. 

Finally, Amy saw a hint that this was indeed a cult, and her suspicions became confirmed. Amy feigned she needed to use the restroom before darting out into the on-site dormitories, where she knew her sister might be. 

She kicks down the doors one by one. Every room has a supermodel, but none of them are Kerri. An alarm can be heard as Amy goes on a rampage, but she isn't getting anywhere. Amy resorts to her final option and pulls out a gun as security closes in.

"I need to see my sister, Kerri, right now!" Amy insists.

Three supermodel physicians appear and attempt to calm her down.

"Of course, we'll get your sister Kerri right away," one of the supermodel doctors offers.

"...and, give me some more of those pills, they made my underarm fat disappear, and they were delicious," Amy states.

"I'll get you some right away," offers another supermodel doctor.

Amy needed to validate her concerns; she knew this was a cult and that brainwashing took place.

"Hey you, Brooklyn Decker's twin sister doctor," Amy remarked to the last remaining supermodel doctor, "show me to where you keep the files."

"Of course, follow me," the supermodel doctor replies as she walks Amy to the main office.

Amy sifts through their files, looking for the proof she needs to persuade her sister to leave this place for good.

Unfortunately for Amy, the only thing she discovered was that The Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry was a highly benevolent organization. They created a fitness schedule for orphans, gave celluloid cream to veterans, and sent exercise equipment to Africa for overweight elephants.

Amy had about finished going through every file in the office and had discovered nothing when her sister Kerri arrived.

"Amy, what are you doing?" Kerri asks as she walks into the now-trashed office.

"This is a cult, and you must escape. I know that evil is going on here," Amy tries to convince.

"What are you talking about? It's just a weight-loss clinic; everyone here is polite, friendly, and looks like they belong on the cover of a swimsuit magazine," Kerri elaborates.

"I miss you, Kerri; why did you abandon me?" Amy inquires.

"Every time I came over to your place, you just offered me junk food, sugary drinks, or sweets. I couldn't be around you anymore; you are what does Sisterhood of the Perpetually Hungry call a sabotager," Kerri explains.

"But I miss you; I'm always unhappy because you're not here," Amy explains.

"Why don't you join us? You can join my team; we stand outside TGI Fridays, Applebee's, and Denny's and hand out cards to people who ordered too much," Kerri explains.

"Do they really want me?" Amy inquires.

"Without a doubt. Not to mention that if you work here, you get free prescription refills. We're going to all have six-pack abs!" Kerri exclaims with zeal.

Amy and her sister hug as the supermodels around them applaud the touching moment.

Two supermodels are hidden behind one-way glass, opposite the main office mirror.

"Look at that, another soldier in our army," exclaims one supermodel.

"Yes, it's only a matter of time before we take over the world. Hail Satan," the other supermodel says.

7-12-21 - Fs in the Chat

 Fs in the Chat

IDEA - 7-12-21

by

Patrick Ryan

Danny Davis, a new streamer, is attempting to grow his audience on his gaming streaming channel by playing Granite City, an open-world game in which you can choose to be good or bad. Danny knows that criminal streamers attract more views, so he's decided to become an outlaw in the game.

"All right, gamers, our last campaign peaked at a hundred viewers; that's the target for today's marathon," Danny says to begin the stream.

"I'm not going to stop playing until we've hit a hundred viewers. Right now, it appears that we're at," Danny says as he looks down at his streaming views. "four. We'll be here all night, so don't worry," Danny exclaims with zeal.

"Okay, the black market chatter indicates there's something valuable on the north end of town; let's go check it out," Danny says.

When he arrives, he notices a sniper in the bell tower and learns that the police have just dispatched two teams of five into a bunker.

"Wow, whatever is in that bunker, they really want to safeguard it; they're looking for a thief, possibly someone who has murdered police officers. I'm going to try to sneak in and see if I can get out with the treasure in the midst of the chaos," Danny explains with fake tension.

He maneuvers beneath the sniper and makes a break for it; the sniper fires again but misses, allowing Danny to enter the bunker narrowly. As Danny becomes lost in this building's labyrinth, gunfire can be heard throughout the bunker. He makes a quick right into a chamber, but it's a dead end. There's also a female character in the room named Kelly Clarkson, and she promptly draws a machine gun on Danny.

"Hold up, I'm not one of them; I'm an outlaw like you," Danny tries to persuade.

Kelly Clarkson holds the gun to Danny's head.

"What's the deal with this place?" Danny inquires.

Kelly Clarkson lowers her gun and says, "It's a gallium crystal."

"Gamers, I can't believe this! Only one gallium crystal spawns every 30 days, and it's worth 30,000 credits!" Danny says to his audience in a goofy tone.

"Why are you talking like that? You sound strange and phony," Kelly Clarkson says.

"I'm doing a Livestream; I'm speaking to my gamer audience," Danny exclaims.

"Livestream? Whatever, we'll only get the crystal if we work as a team. I'll share the 30,000 credits with you," Kelly Clarkson makes an offer.

"What a bargain, gamers! 15,000 credits is more than I earned in the previous three weeks combined; you know I have to take this offer," Danny adds in a goofy tone to his audience.

"Forget it; there's no way I'm putting up with that nonsense; I'll do it myself," Kelly Clarkson grumbles.

"No, no, um, I swear I'll talk normal," Danny begs.

"Fine, the crystal is located in this section of the building, to the right and roughly ten rooms down. 

There are maybe 15 police officers between us and the room. If we can get past the cops, there should be another ten police in the room with the crystal. After that, it's smooth sailing with the gallium," Kelly Clarkson explains.

Danny says, "Yeah, smooth."

Kelly Clarkson and Danny begin cleaning the police from the hallway. Danny finds himself in trouble right away, and Kelly Clarkson comes to his rescue a few times. Danny can't believe how skilled she is at the game; she might be the best player he's ever seen. Kelly Clarkson executes moves and turns that would require 20 fingers to execute; her bullet efficiency is out of this world, and every shot is a head shot. Danny doesn't even realize he's about to be killed half the time, and Kelly Clarkson saves him.

When they get to the room with the gallium crystal, there is no one present, only the crystal on the pedestal.

"Something's wrong; there should be another 5 to 10 cops in here, be on the lookout," Kelly Clarkson emphasizes.

A false wall opens up as they enter the room, revealing a rocket launcher. The police have Kelly Clarkson cornered. Danny's character tumbles to the ground and lands right next to the gallium crystal. He could very easily steal the crystal and exit as the rocket launcher murders Kelly Clarkson. Danny, tempted, decides to sacrifice himself instead, throwing his character in front of the rocket launcher, killing him instantaneously. Kelly Clarkson escapes with the gallium crystal, and Danny awakens at a hospital in another part of Granite City.

Danny instantly opens the character list and looks for Kelly Clarkson so he can friend her in the game, but she isn't there. Danny's feed now has 50 viewers.

"Did you see those headshots, guys? I think I'm in love; we need to find Kelly Clarkson," Danny explains.

Danny explores Granite City extensively. He communicates with all of his connections in contacts; no one has ever heard of her.

Suddenly, as Danny drives down a rural road with no other characters around, Kelly Clarkson comes up on his right, riding a motorcycle. Danny notices her and pulls over, and the two of them flee into a barn.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," Danny says.

"You helped me in stealing the gallium crystal. I owe you 15,000 credits and much more; you could have easily snatched the crystal and escaped," Kelly Clarkson says.

"I didn't think it was right to do that because you're the best player I've ever seen; you earned that crystal," Danny acknowledges.

"That's unusual; most of the time, it's everyone for themselves out there. That's why I had to track you down," Kelly Clarkson admits.

"I'm glad you did; you're not on any of the character lists, and I attempted to friend you, but you weren't in the program," Danny replies. 

Kelly Clarkson sighs.

"What's the use? I suppose I should just tell you. I'm from another universe, but Earth is going to be hit by an asteroid in mine. I'll be lucky if I make it through the night," Kelly Clarkson says.

"Wait, what, are you for real?" Danny inquires.

"If you need proof, the apocalypse has all these people trying to repent before the end," Kelly Clarkson adds.

"Like what?" Danny inquires.

"Well, the President of the United States has been getting bribes from Canada, famous actor Rex Myers is gay, and there's a website, www.oooooooo.com, with eight o's, that shows you who really shot President Kennedy, with photographic evidence and official CIA certification," says Kelly Clarkson.

Danny checks the site,

"Damn, I never would have guessed it was that person," 

Danny exclaims.

"Right, that caught me off guard as well," Kelly Clarkson reveals.

"Oh my God, you're for real, and your Earth is about to be hit by an asteroid. I'm sorry," Danny says sadly.

"It's okay; we've known about the asteroid for nearly a year now, and most of us have just accepted our fate," Kelly Clarkson adds.

"Well then, I'm going to give you the most epic night of Granite City you've ever had; we've got 30,000 credits to burn through. Let's light this place on fire!" Danny exclaims with genuine zeal.

Danny and Kelly Clarkson unleash more damage than the game has ever seen in a single night. They both received the unreachable ten-star wanted rating, which is the highest in the game. With 30,000 credits, they could purchase guns, bombs, battleships, stealth bombers, and whatever else they could think of in the game. Granite City programmers were aware of this stream and began developing amazing weapons for them to use. 

Over a billion people saw Danny's stream that night, yet he didn't look at his view count once. Kelly Clarkson captivated him; not only was she the best player he'd ever seen, but he also got to know her as a person.

As the night was turning into the morning, Kelly admitted,

"The time has come; the news says that the asteroid will make an impact any minute now. Thank you, Danny, for giving me this night; I'll never forget it," Kelly Clarkson says as her character fades away.

Danny's streaming platform became the most viewed stream on Earth due to the revelations about the President of the United States, the admission that gave Rex Myers the courage to become who he was meant to be, and the website that uncovered President Kennedy's genuine killer.

Years later, Danny would encounter the Kelly Clarkson version from his universe. They would also fall in love, as fate would have it.

7-10-21 - Meeting in a Chess Bar

Meeting in a Chess Bar

IDEA - 7-10-21

by

Patrick Ryan

A rook, a bishop, and a knight walk into a bar. Each of them takes a seat as a pawn bartender moves in to take their drink order.

"Can I get you something?" The pawn bartender inquires.

"Just a beer for me," says the rook.

"I'll take a whiskey, neat," the knight says quietly.

The bishop surveys the bottles behind the bar, unable to make a decision.

"We have a wide choice of vodkas," the Pawn bartender says, attempting to assist.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I'm in the mood for something sweet right now. Do you know how to prepare a strawberry daiquiri?" The bishop inquires, eliciting a puzzled expression from the rook and knight.

"I suppose I could give it a shot," the pawn bartender admits grudgingly.

"You're a lifesaver; I've had myself a day," the fatigued bishop exclaims.

The pawn moves about making the drinks, and the knight turns to the other two.

"Let's get started; I was walking about in an L pattern, like I usually do, when I spotted something weird. The adversary is moving forward on the right side," the knight elaborates.

"Oh my God, I'm going insane. All I can see is what's directly in front of me; I've been staring at a pawn's ass for as long as I can remember," the rook adds, a little uncomfortably.

"Calm down, hear me out; I believe we should try to switch sides; we're waging a losing battle," the knight says.

"Switch sides? Everything looks fine from my perspective," the bishop says.

"Yeah, but you're cross-eyed, you ever noticed that you only move diagonally," the knight says.

"It's never been done before; you can't simply switch sides. Don't you have any allegiance to the white king and queen?" The bishop inquires.

"I did, but there used to be a second knight, and then I witnessed it, the sacrifice, simply to save the queen after she made a foolish decision. Then it hit me: we don't matter to the monarchy; everything is set up to protect them; what about our lives?" The knight snarls.

"We're at war," the bishop continues, "and if the white king and queen prevail, we all win."

"I'm not sure about that; there was another rook as well. Then one night, the king approaches him and requests to trade positions, mentioning something about castling. He mistook it for a sexual advance, but he was found dead the next morning," the rook elaborates.

"That's what I've been saying, the king could have advanced in any direction, but instead, he put his rook in jeopardy," the knight asserts confidently.

"All right, I'll consider this stupid concept for a minute; how do we switch to the other side, genius?" asks the bishop.

The knight was about to respond when the pawn bartender returned with their drinks, forcing him to swallow his remarks.

"Okay, the rook gets a beer, the knight gets a whiskey, and the bishop wins a daiquiri. Is there anything else I can get you?" The pawn bartender inquires.

"Oh God, a dose of insulin for this sweet drink," laments the bishop as he takes a sip from his daiquiri.

"Please accept my apologies; that was the first time that drink was ordered here," the pawn bartender acknowledges.

"It's alright; evidently, the kingdom will be short of sugar for a while because it's all in my drink," the bishop complains. 

With a shake of his head, the pawn bartender walks away. The knight checks around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation before leaning in to discuss it with the bishop and rook.

"Okay, you know how we wear white, and the enemy wears black?" The knight inquires.

"Don't remind me, bishops around the world get lavish and fancy robes; I'm stuck with this white potato sack," the bishop complains.

"Yeah, well, the other day, while on patrol, I killed a bishop and stole his black robe. And shortly before I arrived, I killed a black knight and stole his black uniform. Once we've betrayed our side, we simply start wearing black to show the black side; we're with them now," the knight explains.

"So, instead of carrying out our oath, we simply betray our kingdom?" The bishop inquires.

"I've seen enough of these conflicts to know that we're going to lose;  I knew as soon as I saw pawns sacrificed like candy early on. A king who has no regard for pawns has no regard for anyone but himself," says the knight.

"This is making sense; we could be the heroes. We would be regarded as warrior gods if we won the fight for the black side!" The rook says.

"All right, I don't want to lose this war as much as you don't; you've persuaded me," the bishop adds.

"This is great; when are we going to get the black rook uniform for me?" The rook inquires. The knight gives an uneasy grin.

"Here's the thing, we need someone to be sacrificed, so the king and queen don't see it coming," explains the knight.

"So, who will be sacrificed?" The rook inquires.

"You, you idiot, you're the only one without a black uniform," the bishop says.

"Look at it this way," the knight adds, "you'll be recognized as a hero, historians will write books about you, tales will emerge about your sacrifice."

"I suppose that would be sort of cool, but how do we go about doing it?" The rook inquires.

"We'll begin with the queen. When the black side attacks, I know exactly where the white queen will be. You'll sacrifice yourself, and when the queen believes she's rescued, we'll dress in black and murder the white queen. When the king comes down to see what's going on, we kill him as well," the knight explains.

"I like that; everyone knows that queen bish is more powerful than the king anyway," says the bishop, laughing. They finish their drinks and exit the bar.

As the black queen enters the white queen's chamber to begin her attack, the rook moves into position directly in front of her. The white rook goes courageously to the right and then forward. The black queen kills the rook in no time at all.  

Then, the black queen turns her gaze to the white queen, who is terrified since she has no way out; she has been cornered. Suddenly, the white knight and bishop appear and take their places in front of the black queen. The white queen smiles because she knows the knight and bishop will make a sacrifice for her. However, it is at this point that the white knight and bishop don their black clothes and attack the white queen. The black queen looks on, perplexed. 

The white knight and bishop kill the white queen at the same time. They then bow in front of the black queen.

"We are now your devoted servants, my black queen," the white knight declares reverently.

The black queen is perplexed and kills the white knight and bishop immediately.

The white knight and bishop are instantly transported to a ledge perched high above a chessboard. They notice the white rook.

"Hey fellas, how did that go?" the rook inquires as the knight and bishop look on, unhappy.

"You said betray the king and queen, you said switch sides, you said we'd be legends," the bishop quips cynically.

"Shut up; how long am I going to have to suffer in this hell? This game is taking an eternity!" The knight grumbles as the three remain together in chess purgatory until the war is over.

7-9-21 - Zombie Support Group

                   Zombie Support Group

IDEA - 7-9-21

by

Patrick Ryan

Roman Fuller rises from his seat and walks to the platform in the center of the hall.

"My name is Roman, and I've killed 217 zombies."

The figure astounds the audience; it is by far the highest reported at the support group.

"The majority of the zombies were from Glendale, where I live and work. Just like the last guy, I have to complete the required therapy, participate in this support group, and I don't have to serve any time. It's been difficult; I don't think any of us expected there to be a cure for the zombie virus; I'm hoping this group can change people's perceptions of me  I look forward to hearing from others, thank you," Roman says as he steps down from the platform and takes his seat in the crowd.

Roman is heading to work through Glendale, a town with roughly 10,000 people, though post-zombie apocalypse, it's more like 8,000. A mother with a young child walks by, throwing Roman the middle finger. An elderly woman rolls down her window simply to shout at Roman, 

"I hope you get shot in the head."

As Roman approaches the counter within a restaurant, the waitress throws him an evil eye and says, 

"Sorry, we're closed for lunch."

"You're a restaurant; lunch is what you do," Roman replied.

"Perhaps we're simply closed for individuals who killed my sister," says the waitress as she brings lunch to another table.

Roman gets the picture and heads back to his work. As he enters the building, the receptionist greets him,

"Oh great, the office jerk made it back alive. Lenny wants to see you," she says. 

"Thanks," Roman says as he walks through evil stares from everyone in the office.

Roman knocks on Lenny's door twice; he's seated at his desk and waves him in.

"Hey Roman, you know, the business has been on the mend since the end of the apocalypse," he says nervously as he continues.

"I know we said everyone would get their job back, but there's only so much financial burden we can take on right now, so we're going to let you go."

"You're firing me?" Roman inquired.

"No, no, no, no, no, we're looking to maximize efficiency and performance; it was a tough call, we choose you by a hair," Lenny explains.

"So you're terminating me based on my performance? Are you certain it isn't because I murdered your parents?" Roman inquired.

"Whaaaaaat? Of course not; that's water under the bridge in my case. This is solely for performance purposes," Lenny expresses.

"All right, can I at least pack my belongings?" Roman inquired.

"I believe it would be best for everyone in the office if we shipped you your things. Avoid uncomfortable farewells. You know, keep in touch; why did you murder my family? Blah, blah, blah," Lenny says.

"Yeah, I guess I get it," Roman admits.

No matter what Roman did, he couldn't find work, the residents continued to treat him like a murderer, and he couldn't move because he was required by court order to attend the support group. Roman was resolved to make the best of the situation, attending meetings and conversing with other zombie slayers.

"You kill one family's Mimi, and suddenly you're not invited to Christmas dinner," one zombie slayer grumbled.

"Just because I stabbed your children through the ears doesn't mean I don't have feelings," said another zombie slayer as he sobbed from the platform.

Roman had finally made it to his final required support group. He had big plans to leave Glendale and become a commercial fisherman; he would depart first thing in the morning to begin his new life. 

As the meeting was coming to a close, Doctor Mejia, Glendale's only doctor, comes rushing into the hall, panicked.

"They've returned; they've returned! The zombies have returned and have taken over the entire town; we need your help," the doctor said while narrowly avoiding a zombie onslaught outside the door.

"Nah, been there, done that, have the zombies come in, they can have some day-old coffee," a zombie slayer jokes, pointing to the dusty coffee machine on the table.

"I secured the doors, but they can only hold for so long," the doctor says as he begins to push chairs and tables in front of the door.

"What about the cure, the vaccine?" inquires another zombie slayer.

"We've tried everything," the doctor says as he begins to move the coffee machine, napkin holder, and creamer dispenser in front of the door.

"What exactly are we doing here? Glendale needs us again, and we're just going to sit back and watch everyone perish?" Roman motivates.

"But look what happened last time, we became outcasts," says a zombie slayer.

Roman walks onto the platform,

"Did we get blamed for killing everyone's loved ones? Sure. Did they seize all of our weapons, making this fight even more difficult? Yeah, they did that. Will we be remembered for saving the town this time? Most likely not. But there are zombies outside that door, and if these support meetings have taught me anything, it's that zombie slayers kill zombies!" Roman says, determined.

"Wasn't that the point of the support group?" says the support group counselor gently.

Roman rushes up to the end of the hall, picks up an American flag, and snaps the wooden handle in half, creating a zombie-killing spike.

"Come on, let's go slaughter some zombies!!" Roman says as he marches towards the door.

Roman and the zombie slayers wiped out Glendale's zombie population. By the time they were done, there were almost no zombies left. The waitress from the cafe, dead; Roman's boss Lenny, dead; even the receptionist, dead! Hundreds upon hundreds of zombies were slaughtered by Roman and the zombie slayers. 

After an epic battle, Roman sits on the steps of city hall, and the doctor approaches him with a vile in his hand.

"We altered the vaccine; there's a cure again!" exclaims the doctor.

"Is that the cure right there?" Roman inquires.

"Yes," the doctor confirms, "it's the only vaccine for miles."

Roman shifts his gaze to the left and then to the right. He then stabbed the doctor in the head with the bloodied wooden spike he had obtained from the support group hall. The vile shatters into hundreds of fragments as it falls to the ground.

"Oh, no, the doctor dropped the cure," Roman said to himself as he kills a zombie woman who gave him the finger as he walked down the street.