I hadn’t seen the Zombie in a while, but I came home today and the bathroom door was closed. I thought about it and I was pretty sure I hadn’t closed the bathroom door before I left.
This got me nervous.
Then I heard some sloshing coming from inside the bathroom. Bathtub sounds.
This made me even more nervous. And pretty curious.
I walked up to the bathroom and listened. After I heard a few sounds from inside I knew it was the Zombie. You might think I felt better knowing that – but not really. The Zombie doesn’t use the bathroom. The Zombie doesn’t take baths. The Zombie doesn’t close doors.
What is happening?
“Zombie, I’m going to open the door …” I said, a little worried.
I opened the door and I saw something that shocked me. Absolutely shocked me.
The Zombie had lit some candles, was laying in the bath tub with tons of bubbles, he had some old-fashioned hair curlers he had somehow shoved into his head, and was gnawing on a self-help book on how to get over being broken up with (based on the books cover, ironic I know, it looked to be a book for heterosexual women).
The Zombie burped, and we both laughed. Things are back on track with me and the Zomb!
Also because of the bath he doesn’t smell like death, mixed with curry, mixed with feet! He instead just smells like death.