Dave the Zombie…at the supermarketOctober 14, 2010
He pushed the trolley into the store. Since becoming one of the undead, Dave’s tastes in food had changed dramatically. Gone were the spicy foods and foods rich with garlic and herbs and in their place were bland ready meals. Dave wasn’t sure if he needed food or if he just ate out of habit. He grabbed several pre-packaged stick-in-the-microwave meals and headed to the checkout.
This is where the trouble started…
Dave put all the items on the conveyor belt and brought out his credit card to pay for the items. He keyed in his number. And waited. And waited some more. Nothing happened for a few moments. The cashier looked up at Dave suspiciously.
“Do you have any other form of payment? The machine doesn’t like your card.”
Dave rummaged in his wallet. The cashier caught a wiff of Dave’s rotting flesh and her hand slipped to the emergency button and pressed it.
A security guard came over.
“Is everything alright?” he asked the cashier.
“His card didn’t work in the machine and he smells funny” said the cashier trying not to breath any of the awful stench emanating from Dave.
“Could you come with me sir” said the guard and took hold of Dave’s arm. He was most surprised when the rest of Dave didn’t come with it.
“Urghhhhh Ugg Urghhhhh Urghhhhh arrrr” said Dave meaning “Do you mind, but that’s my arm you have just ripped off”.
The guard gestured with the severed limb in a follow me gesture.
Dave left the groceries and followed the security guard.
Dave was taken to a small room and told to wait there. The guard left the severed limb in the room with Dave and left to search for the store manager. When he had gone, Dave reattached his arm using some sticky tape that was in a tape dispenser on the desk that was in the room.
After a few minutes the door opened and a middle-aged balding, slightly overweight man entered the room. He walked to the other side of the desk and sat down. Dave couldn’t tell if it was the milkyness of his eyes but the man appeared to be entirely gray.
“Good day to you sir” he sneered with a rather nasal voice.
“Urrrrrrgh” replied Dave.
“Can you tell me where you got the card that you tried to pay with?”
“Ug, Urrrrrgg hggggrph, arrrrrggggh” said Dave meaning”it was given to me by my bank”.
“That’s all well and good” said the manager completely ignoring Dave “but this card belongs to someone who is now deceased” he said with a smirk. “It’s your bad luck that whatever scumbag stole this card and sold it to you didn’t do his homework” he said, a smile on his face. He was in full bad cop mode. He wanted to gloat and get Dave to confess before the real police arrived. “Tell me who sold this card to you or I’ll let the police know you weren’t being…co-operative”.
“Urrr hrrrrrst grrrrrraffffggg” said Dave, more than a little agitated.
“Don’t give me that” snarled the manager “you come into my store and try to pay using some poor dead bloke’s card, what kind of scumbag are you?” he prodded Dave with his finger, it made a hole in Dave’s chest.
Dave had decided that he’d had enough.
“Mmmmmmmm” he said, meaning “that store manager’s brain tasted much better than microwavable macaroni”.