The first stimulus we were given was zombies, appropriate considering the name of the project. Despite my love of gore and horror I took a slightly different direction for this and instead of zombies initiating the apocalypse I wrote a small sketch of what it'd be like if they were productively integrated in to society. It's very silly and contains one very poor taste rigor mortiis joke.
Industrialisation
of the Dead
By Jeremy
Linnell
A kitchen. Centre stage sits the table, covered in papers and various
pieces of standard household clutter. At it sits Mary drinking a cup of tea and reading. Behind her, doing various
tasks such as cleaning is a man Freddy.
Shackled to the sink, rotted clothes and decaying skin with a varnished,
plastic coating. He groans occasionally. Enter Oli, clearly home from a day at work. He sits down at the table
heavily.
Oli: Well. They finally did it. Fuckers.
Mary: What’s that dear?
Oli: I’ve been saying it for months. Only a matter of time.
Mary: Oh is it your whole zombie prejudice thing again?
Oli: It’s not prejudice when I’m right! They did it. They finally
bloody did it.
Mary: Did WHAT?
Oli: Fired me. Gave my job to one of those rotting, shambling
BASTARDS.
Mary: It’s not their fault. They’re just trying to get on. Same as
the rest of us. <She turns to Freddy> Be a dear and make him a
cup of tea. And ignore what he says. He’s just letting off steam. He doesn’t
mean it.
Oli: I bloody well do mean it. They got no right. No right. They’ve
had their time. Coming back to life and taking good, honest Christian people’s
jobs. It’s unnatural.
Mary: They just do what they’re trained for. They’re people too.
Oli: They’re things and they’re making a bloody shambles of our
economy. No wonder this country’s in the crapper. All gone to pot since we
started letting them in.
Mary: We didn’t let them in dear. They came back to life. It’s not
their fault. They don’t know what to do with themselves.
Oli: I know what to do with them. Rotting freaks.
Mary: He doesn’t mean dear. He’s just upset because he lost his
job. I did tell you to make yourself more indispensable Oli. You’ve been
worrying about this for a while. Now drink your tea. And thank Freddy. He’s a
good boy.
Oli: Well what are we going to do! We need money.
Mary: We’ll manage.
Oli: How? I’m not trained for anything. I’m not one of Blair’s Uni
Babies. All the manual jobs are done by them. I’m fucked.
Mary: You’re not dear. You know there’s plenty of things they can’t
do. They can’t really think. They repeat. They work hard. They help.
Oli: Help this great country down the toilet. They don’t even go to
the pub after work finishes. Oh no. They just. Keep. Working.
Mary: It’s all they know. And besides. If you could get a job
working in a field, would you? You sunburn easily and get dehydrated.
Oli: I liked my job. I’m good at customer service. People want
service with a smile. Not from someone who doesn’t speak English and can barely
understand you.
Freddy groans
Mary: I think Freddy understands dear. They’re not stupid. They’re
just…different.
Oli: I still remember the first wave. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. They killed
people.
Mary: Only some of them. They’re not all like that. Most of them
just wanted to integrate.
Oli: They’ll turn again. You’ll see.
Mary: Of course dear. Look. They are good. They save so much;
factories don’t need big hulking machines anymore, no more appliances filling
landfills, less waste, they’re completely organic and 100% biodegradable. The
world is better for them.
Oli: You would say that.
Mary: What’s that supposed to mean?
Oli: Don’t think I’ve not noticed. The smell of mildew and corpse
in our bed.
Mary: What are you implying?
Oli: Is there even a term for it? Necrophilia is when they’re dead,
but this. This is so sick they don’t even have a name yet.
Mary: You’re sick.
Oli: Am I Mary? I saw your browser history. It’s you that’s sick.
<A beat>
Mary: It’s a legitimate fetish!
Oli: I knew it! You’re cheating on me
with…that.
Mary: It’s not technically cheating.
Oli: Oh come off it.
Mary: Is it cheating if I use a dildo?
Oli: Of course not.
Mary: Well I just Freddy for the…rigor
mortis. And the smooth varnished coating feels amazing.
Oli: OH MY GOD. Come on. Do you hear
yourself?
Mary: I don’t know what you’re upset
about. You said they weren’t people a few minutes ago.
Oli: And you said they were!
Mary: And they are, but you can’t love
them. Not like I love you.
Oli: You just love what they do to you.
Mary: They have a lifetime of
experience. And more.
Oli: Well this is just brilliant.
Brilliant. I knew I’d be getting replaced at work but not at home too.
Mary: Don’t think of it like that. It’s
support. You’ll find another job and really, you’re getting offended at my
masturbation habits? Oli. I love you.
Oli: Bullshit. Those filthy, stinking
bits of meat have stolen my life….fine. You know what. I see the way the world
is going.
Mary: Oli? What are you talking about.
Oli: First it was life begins at 40.
Then 60. Now it’s life begins when you’re fucking dead. Well fine. I’ll help
that process along. At least I’ll be able to go back to work.
Mary: And our sex life would improve.
You know I’ll always support you 100% in your decisions dear. Me and Freddy. We
can be one happy family.
Oli: Ugh. Fine. I’ll be in the car
running the exhaust. See you tomorrow. Make sure they don’t fuck up the
varnishing of my skin. Wanna preserve my good looks.
Mary: Don’t worry dear I’ve got just
the coating in mind. Good luck!
Oli: Yeah yeah.
<He exits>
THE END
Bub the butler :)
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