A Moral Conundrum

Tonight at 9 Foz the Hook will play a smoking Black Wednesday set at Cole’s before Adam Burke brings The List of Quality Comics to the stage for a night of funnies.  So come on out.  You don’t need to know any more about Cole’s right now.  Right?

So last night I had a great Dawn of the Dead dream.

It started with the Zombie Apocalypse, at night, on the manicured front lawns of a suburban neighborhood.  I wasn’t one of the zombies, which is unusual for my dreams.  Usually, whether it’s a vampire dream or a ghost dream, or whatever, I am the thing it is about.  Revealing, huh?

Anyway, this time it was Zombie Apocalypse, and I was one of the live ones who were running away.  I was trying my best to remember everything I learned about surviving the Zombie Apocalypse from Dawn of the Dead.  I would probably have done better if I tried to remember the lessons from Zombieland.  They were more useful.  But I belong to certain generation, and our zombies were slow and went to the mall.

We ran across these suburban lawns, fleeing the zombies in the dark, and dodged into this super modern house.  We wanted to hide from the zombies, but the house was so modern that it had floor to ceiling windows in every room.  Even when we went to the basement there was a sliding glass door that looked out onto the back yard.  So the zombies were all pounding on the windows and breaking through.  We had to make a run for it.

An Old Lady Zombie almost caught me, but I got away.  Revealing, huh!?!?

Then it was morning, and me and This Other Guy got on mountain bikes and went out exploring.  In MY dreams zombies only feed at night.  They were Vampire Zombies!  Me and This Other Guy went down to the old high school parking lot and rode the mountain bikes around.  There was a long set of stairs and we rode down them.  It was really fun, and My Brain really ratcheted up the whole dream-falling sensation for max effect.  It was pretty awesome.

Then My Brain decided to return to the zombie theme.

We were all in the kitchen, cooking spaghetti sauce (not surprising because I made some exquisite red sauce for supper last night.  Ate it over Gnocchi with a tasty Chardonnay that FozSis sent me.  That’s right, you arrogant pigs!  I drank Chardonnay with red sauce.  Just try and stop me!). 

Well, we were cooking and the Old Lady Zombie was starting to get really affectionate with me.  She wanted to sniff my arm.  That didn’t seem right to me on a couple of levels.  But then there was this fastidious Jerko Guy (like Dr. Smith on Lost in Space) who was all “Oh, you have to let the zombie smell your arm because you have to respect your elders.”  I said “Listen, Jerko.  You’re the one who let the zombie in the kitchen.”  And then I listed a couple of other things about him that I didn’t like.

Then I did this:

I said, “Hey, Bob, shoot this guy,” and Bob took out a gun and shot the guy in the head.  There were pretty good special effects on that one, I’m telling you.  Then Bob turned back to the red sauce and kept stirring.  You have to do that or it burns.  Revealing, huh!?!?

Then I had a moral conundrum.  Why did I order Bob to kill the live guy, and leave the Old Lady Zombie upright. 

1. Do Zombies outrank fastidious assholes?

2. Do I really respect my elders?

3. Am I so starved for affection that even Old Lady Zombies seem pretty hot, provided they show some interest?

Only one of these statements is true, and I think you know which one it is.

Finally, go to Cole’s.  I need to know what you think of me.