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The Rogue Cold War Sub Crewed by Zombies

has a captain named Captain Exigon. His first mate is Zombie Lieutenant Graaahh.

“We should really do something with our missiles,” says Captain Exigon, in zombie Russian.

“Well,” says Graaahh at length, “there aren’t any countries I want to obliterate.”

“I was thinking more of treating them like treasure,” says Exigon. “We could bury them somewhere, and mark it with an X!”

“Then hunt for more!” Graaahh is getting into it. “Terrors of the seas! With a disarmament agenda!”

“Exactly!” says Exigon.

“Graaahh!”

So that’s where all the missing Russian nukes are and you don’t have to worry about them anymore.

The Doctor

“Knock knock.”

“Knock who?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, come on. Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Interrupting cow.”

Silence.

A pointed look.

Silence.

“You’re supposed to say ‘interrupting cow who’ so I can–”

“MOO”

“Fine, dammit, you tell one.”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s–”

“MOO”

“NO!”

“Did you think the cow was just going to leave?”

“This isn’t a hypothetical door-opening scenario with persistent characters! It’s a purely linguistic construct!”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“The Doctor.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Get it?”

“Yyyes?”

“I thought it was funny.”

“I worked that out.”

“And anyway you already took the interrupting–”

“MOO”

Rob

Rob walks Albie Street, his shoes clattering softly together.

“They call those crack tennies,” says Maya.

“Who calls anything ‘tennies?'” says Rob.

“You know what I mean,” says Maya. “I used to try and pull them down.”

“They’re boundary markers. Wards. Protection.”

“Do you think I need protection?” He doesn’t say anything; she tilts her head.

They turn down Twenty-Ninth. Rob leans back and sends the next pair whirling upward, where it catches by the laces on the catenary line.

“So,” she says, “do you carve magic runes on the soles or something?”

“I just use a Sharpie,” he says.

Showalter

“Detectives McMeel and Showalter, Precinct Nine and Three-Quarters,” says Showalter. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions.”

“मैं मुसीबत में हूँ?” ask the suspicious yellow eyes in the crack of the door.

“We just need to know if you saw anything on the night of September… forty-eighth,” says Showalter, checking his notescroll. “There was an incident.”

“मैं सुअरों से बात नहीं है!”

“We’re going to have to continue this downtown,” sighs McMeel.

They drop through a manhole and into a mine cart, whose blue-and-reds flicker on stalagmites as they hurtle toward the sub-sub-substation.

Kora

Betwixt the two of them, they lick the platter clean, snapping and whining for more even after Kora pulls it away. “That’s enough!” she says. Monday looks sullen; Friday pants with undimmed hope. (Wednesday looks aloof, of course. He long ago figured out that she could let the other two heads eat for him.)

“It’s time for walksies anyway,” Kora says, and before she’s finished undoing the leash they’re dragging her off through the stalagmite maze; little ghosts mewl and scatter out of their way. At least they haven’t eaten me yet, she thinks grimly. At least there is still that.

Proserpina

“They were just here when I arrived for practice,” says Radiane with some chagrin.

Proserpina surveys them: a smaller gathering than at the big match, but still far too conspicuous a crowd of teenage girls to be clattering around in a closed wing.

“What do we do?”

“Start teaching them in shifts, I suppose,” Proserpina says.

“But you haven’t finished teaching me yet!”

“Exactly how much do you think I know?”

“Proserpina!” shouts Ernestine, traipsing over. “Where have you been?”

“Yes, out alone?” asks Radiane.

“No,” says Proserpina, too quickly.

Radiane cocks her head. “Not alone?”

“Not that either!” Proserpina says.

Bongo McTweedlepants

“Oh, there you are, Bongo,” says Thaddeus, wobbling in through the swinging door. “Did you get lost?”

“Heh, yeah,” Bongo says. “I’m not used to working in a place anything like this size!”

“You’ll learn your way around the Educational Funtime HQ soon enough.”

“I mean, you guys have like an entire snack bar in here!” exclaims Bongo, waving one floppy arm around the vaulted chamber. “Not to mention the leather couches and the plasma TV… this is the nicest studio I’ve ever seen!”

“This is the bathroom,” says Thaddeus.

“You have a bathroom?” gasps Bongo, eyes full of puppet tears.

The Princess Leaves

“I’m taking Reaching the West Reaches and my friends,” says the emissary, cool and cocksure, silk-robed in black. “You can either profit by this or be destroyed.”

Papa Bosom laughs and laughs.

“You’re standing on–” Dog Shouting tries to hiss in warning from her lounging spot on the floor, but a yank on her leash chokes her off.

“There will be no bargain, Hopeless Warrior,” purrs Papa Bosom in his wet and backward language. “I shall enjoy watching you die.”

The guard’s bolter flies to the Princess’s hand: a flash and a crackle, a scream, and then the floor disappears.

The Self-Loathing Nazi Brain in a Jar

The self-loathing Nazi brain in a jar goes back in time to kill itself, and hesitates.

“I can’t do it!” sobs the speakerbox of the headless corpsebot in whose chest it currently resides. “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem!”

“I don’t know what Gerry existentialist crisis he’s yappin’ about,” whispers American Haymaker, “but I say we strike now!”

“Hold on,” says Damsel Disaster (actually her granddaughter, here in disguise from an alternate future to make sure things don’t go too well).

“Ach!” shrieks the self-loathing Nazi brain in a jar, who just got its own pun.

Lowry

“How long has it been since your last appointment?”

“About two years,” Lowry mumbles around the hissing tube.

“Mm hmm.” Dr. Andrus tugs his gently jaw downward and peers in, over half-moon glasses and the screen of a paper mask. “And have you had any lapses in your regimen?”

“Well, I haven’t flossed enough,” says Lowry, “I mean, who does, but… Um. I drink a soda with dinner most days. Once in a while I chew ice.”

“I see,” says Dr. Andrus gravely. “Well, let us pray.”

Lowry sighs, and tries to remember how to start the Act of Dentition.