"Dude," Ted groaned pitifully, " 'm soooo hungry."
"Yeah, whatever, man," Cody snapped, stumbling a bit on his way down the last few rickety steps. "Did you hear what that voodoo witch said to us?"
"Totally. Well, most of it, anyway. I think some of it was in French or something."
"It wasn't in French, idiot, it was in batshit-crazy- person-speak. She was like, 'Blah, blah, blah, stupid wrestlers, blah, blah, blah, I'm going to put a curse on your arrogant, s--" Cody's brow furrowed. "What'd she cal us, again? Super-something. .."
"I don't know, I wasn't listening," Cody admitted. "I thought she was calling us super-cool."
"Nah, it was something lame and not true at all," Cody insisted, then shrugged. "I was like, 'Whatever, bitch.' I mean, who does she think she is, anyway?"
"She's a fortune-teller, " Ted reminded him as he slid into the driver's seat of his rental car. "We went to get our palms read, remember?"
Cody sighed heavily as he slammed his door. "I know who she was, Ted, I was being ironic."
"Oh, right," Ted nodded as he started the engine. "Think we could find some pizza this time of night?"
"So, she was like, 'Blah, blah, blah, stupid wrestlers, blah, blah, blah, super-something. ' " Cody's indignant stare landed on Randy Orton. "Can you believe that?"
Randy arched an eyebrow noncommittally and asked, "So, what did you say?"
Cody took a breath to respond but was interrupted by Ted.
"He called her a bitch, and then she put a curse on us." Ted finished by stuffing a Dorito in his mouth.
"She put a curse on you?"
"Yeah, after she called us super-cool." Ted emptied the Dorito bag, shaking the last crumbs into his open mouth.
"Dude!" Cody yelped. "She did not call us super-cool! She called us super-something else. And I'm pretty sure she was insulting us."
"She called you super-what?" Randy asked.
"Super- super- super...damn it, I don't know what the word is."
"It was French," Ted interjected.
"It was not French!" Cody yelled, exasperated.
"So basically," Randy summarized, "some old broad yelled at you, and you were too busy being retarded to come up with a decent comeback. Worst lackeys ever."
"But Randy..." Cody whined, only to be interrupted by a shout from CM Punk.
"He just stole my sandwich!" the irate superstar accused, glaring across the catering table at Ted. "Give it back, you little hobgoblin!"
"Can't," Ted mumbled miserably, swallowing around the food crammed in his mouth. "But could you make another one?"
"Ted! Stop eating!" Randy snapped.
Cody sighed, turning away as Punk continued his tirade. Wrestlers from all three brands scattered across the arena's catering room. Only a few matches remained in the pay-per-view, so most of the boys were already in the showers. The small table next to him was occupied by the Undertaker, Kane, and the largest, most delicious-looking plate of nachos Cody had ever seen. Automatically, he shifted closer to the food. "Don't even think about it, boy," Taker warned. "What is wrong with you two?" Randy demanded loudly. "You're acting like pigs, and you look like the walking dead...in fact, go sit down, I'm going to make some calls and find you two a tanning bed." Sighing deeply, Ted and Cody shuffled to an empty table in the corner of the room. A few minutes passed in silence before Evan Bourne came over, bearing armloads of candy. "Hungry?" he asked, grinning as Cody and Ted tore into the treats. "So did I hear that right?" he continued brightly, pulling up a chair. "You two saw a witch last night?" "More of a fortune-teller, " Cody managed as he inhaled a Snickers bar. "We were getting our palms read." "That is so cool. Was she spooky?" "She was mostly just mean," Ted grumbled. "She yelled at us, and she didn't give us any food at all. I've been starving ever since." Distracted, he grabbed the same piece of candy Cody had just snatched and popped it into his mouth. "Dude," Cody stated. "You just bit my hand." "Oh." Ted paused awkwardly before reaching for more candy. "Sorry." Cody shrugged. "It's cool. It didn't hurt."
Evan stared at him incredulously. "How the heck did that not hurt? There are teeth marks in your hand! I can see the bone! How are you not bleeding?"
The hysteria in Evan's voice was drawing attention from the other wrestlers, but Cody remained unconcerned. "I don't think I bleed anymore. I tripped on the curb this morning and got hit by a car, and I didn't bleed then."
"Dude!" Evan squealed excitedly. "I think you're both zombies!"
"So wait," Hunter said, rubbing his forehead. "Explain this one more time?"
Evan sighed impatiently. "Ted and Cody made some voodoo witch woman angry, and she cursed them, and now they're zombies. Honestly, Hunter, it's not all that complicated. "
"Yeah, Hunter," Shawn Michaels chimed in helpfully. "Zombies. Duh."
"Shut up, Shawn." Hunter frowned at Ted and Cody. "Like, flesh-eating horror movie zombies?"
"Or just the kind who walk around stealing nachos?" the Undertaker demanded bitterly.
"Well, this is ridiculous," Chris Jericho announced. "There are no such things as zombies, and nobody here is a flesh-eating anything, so--"
"What the hell's going on in here?" Steve Austin demanded as he stomped into the room. Glancing at Cody and Ted huddled in the corner, he added, "You two look like shit."
"Hey, Steve," John Cena greeted from behind the chair he had been subtly maneuvering between himself and the zombies. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm RAW guest host tomorrow, thought I'd come by and have a few beers. What's wrong with those two?"
"They're zombies," Evan supplied helpfully. "We're trying to figure out if they're flesh-eating or not."
"Huh." Steve pondered that for a moment, then lashed out with one hand, shoving the Undertaker hard into the corner. Ted was on him instantly, biting a chunk out of the Undertaker's neck before anybody could react.
"Dammit, Steve!" the Undertaker roared as he pushed himself away from the table, backpedaling with one hand clamped over the wound. He paused to glare as Kane burst into laughter, then turned back to Steve. "What in the hell did you do that for?"
"I wanted to know if they were all flesh-eatin' ." Steve shrugged, then dropped to rummage through his duffel bag. "Don't be such a girl about it, you were slow and falling apart anyway. Have a beer."
The Undertaker caught the can Steve launched at his face, looking back just quickly enough to see Steve pull back the hammer of the handgun he had pulled from his bag as well. "Steve..."
"Fuck, Steve, you can't shoot him!" Hunter shouted. "How am I supposed to explain that to Vince?"
"What?" Steve demanded belligerently. "He's a zombie too now, right?"
"You don't know that, and maybe there's a way to turn them back..." Chris reasoned.
"Plus, a gunshot won't kill him. At least, it never does in the movies," Evan added.
"Really?" Steve fired instantly, the bullet hitting the Undertaker squarely in the chest.
"Shit!" the Undertaker roared. "You shot me, you asshole!"
"Yeah, well." Steve sipped his beer, eyeing the bloodless hole in the Undertaker's shirt. "Doesn't look like it hurt ya much."
The Undertaker glared at Steve, “I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”
Kane, by this point, was laughing so hard he was nearly crying. "I'm so biting you first," the Undertaker informed him, seething.
“Calm down, ya zombie freak,” Steve took a gulp from the beer in his hand “What we gotta do now is kill us some dead people.”
“Who died and put you in charge?” Hunter growled.
“Well, technically, Cody and Ted and Taker did. I don’t think any of them would put Steve in charge, though.” Shawn shrugged and shook his head.
Hunter shot him a glare. “Not helping, Shawn.”
“Are you a zombie yet? I’m hoping I get to shoot you. You’re being damn annoying.” Steve fingered the trigger on his gun hopefully.
Chris rolled his eyes and sighed, “Hey, no one’s shooting…”
Everyone turned at the indignant shout from the back of the room.
Kane was holding his arm glaring at the Undertaker, “You bit me!”
“Yes, I did. I told you I was so biting you first.” The Undertaker replied with supreme satisfaction lacing his tone.
“You know, you’re a little cunt sometimes. I can’t believe you actually bit me!” Kane huffed out a breath.
“Ha ha ha!” Steve’s laugh was loud in the quiet room, “You are a little cunt sometimes, Taker.”
The Undertaker glared at Steve and replied with quiet menace, “You are getting bitten next.”
Steve cocked his gun. “Not while I’m holding this little baby.”
“Steve, you can’t shoot me. Zombies do not exist, so clearly we are not zombies. Besides, if I was a zombie, that gun wouldn’t do you any good.”
“It’s bound to slow you down some.”
“But it won’t stop me.”
“I can stop you,” Hunter growled.
“I don’t know,” Shawn chimed in.
“Shut up, Shawn.”
“OK, that’s it!” Chris threw up his hands. “We need to stop arguing and get it together. We need a plan.”
“Yeah, like in the movies!” Evan said excitedly.
“I don’t know why you’re so damn excited. We got some damn zombies running around here and I can’t even shoot ‘em dead.” Steve shook his head in disgust.
“Actually, more dead cause we’re already kind of dead,” Cody piped up.
Everyone turned towards where Cody and Ted were standing at one end of the catering table. At the other end, the Undertaker and Kane stood. The table was completely full of empty plates and containers but completely devoid of even one crumb.
Punk stared at the table incredulously. “You ate all the food! I hate fucking zombies!”
“Dammit, I forgot you were still here,” Steve told Cody and Ted as he pulled another beer from his bag. After taking a drink, he said, “Well, we need to figure out how to kill these sons-of-bitches.”
All four began to complain loudly, but were cut off as Chris interjected swiftly, “No killing. We need to find a cure.”
“Yes, a cure!” Evan added delightedly.
“A cure is a great idea. Seriously, dude, I’d rather be cured than dead dead,” Ted remarked.
Cody nodded his head in agreement with Ted, “Yeah, Randy said we were horrible lackeys when we’re zombies.”
“Hey, where is Orton?” Hunter looked around suspiciously. “Or Cena?”
“Oh, they snuck out the door, like, 15 minutes ago,” Shawn answered.
“So what are we doing now?” John Cena whispered as he and Randy Orton snuck down the backstage hallway.
“We’re hiding.” Randy hissed. “Were going to find a nice quiet place and hunker down until this all blows over.”
“Man, there are freaking zombies out here. We should be helping the others.”
“John, no, absolutely not. Steve Austin is running around with a gun, Evan Bourne is taking advice from cheap horror flicks, CM Punk is just standing around eating…I’m pretty sure he’s a zombie…Taker and Kane are biting each other, seriously, how gross is that, and the fate of the world is in the hands of guys like HHH and Shawn Michaels. Who wouldn’t want to hide? Then, when everyone is dead, like you know they’re going to be, we’ll totally own wrestling.”
“That doesn’t seem quite fair. I mean, we could maybe help find a cure and turn them back or whatever.” John was frowning as he followed Randy.
“Look, this isn’t going to end well at all. You know that. I definitely know that. Honestly, the non-zombies would have a much better chance with me on their side, but I don’t trust them for a minute. I’m telling you, we’ll find a spot to hide and then I’ll share wrestling with you when this is all over…Ha, here we go. This is perfect.” Randy opened the door of a small room next to the janitor’s closet and ushered John inside.
“You’re a horrible person.”
Randy rolled his eyes, “Whatever. When you’re alive at the end of all this, remember it was me who saved you. Now, we wait.”
A long metal pole from a nearby janitor's closet clenched tightly in his hands, Chris cleared his throat. "So...who's going to tell Vince?"
"Tell Vince what?" Steve demanded.
"Oh, I don't know, Steve, maybe that the Night of the Living Dead has started backstage at one of his pay-per-views. " CM Punk glared at the zombies as he wrapped a length of the heavy chain he was carrying around his fist. "Think he might care about that?"
"This is ridiculous," the Undertaker stated flatly, coldly staring down each of his self-appointed captors in turn. "We aren't zombies, and you can't keep us in this cafeteria forever. I have things to do."
Punk snorted. "Things like--"
"Hunter!" Shawn yelped, collapsing in a heap as Ted Dibiase pounced on him, teeth snapping. Hunter whirled instantly, smashing the side of Ted's skull with his sledgehammer. The bones of Ted's face shattered from the impact, and he scrambled back into the corner in a flurry of confusion and resentment. His sulking was still surprisingly effective with his newly rearranged facial features.
"You were saying?" Punk said dryly.
"All right, maybe he’s a zombie," the Undertaker conceded. "And Cody seems to be drooling a little, which is a little worrisome. But to be fair, neither of them were Mensa candidates before tonight, now were they?"
Chris snickered. "Yeah, if I was a zombie wanting to feast on human brains, I don't think Shawn would be my preferred victim. No offense," he added insincerely at Hunter's glare.
"Wait, brains?" Kane interjected. "Since when do zombies eat brains? I thought it was just flesh. That's disgusting."
Evan shrugged. "Lots of them eat brains. But sometimes they just eat people. I think brains might be a delicacy or something."
"Wow, that's gross," Shawn announced. "I think I might be sick."
"Yeah, completely revolting," the Undertaker agreed. He paused, then added, "Maybe with some butter or something--hey! " he broke off as Steve's gun swung to point at him again.
"You're a zombie, and you're grossing us out," Steve reasoned. "That means I get to shoot you."
"Don't shoot him," Chris insisted. "He's always been gross, and I already don't know how we're going to explain this to Vince." Silence fell as they all considered the problem, then Chris offered, "Maybe we can turn them back."
"How the hell we gonna do that?"
Expectantly, they all turned to Evan, whose eyes went wide under the sudden scrutiny. "Um...yeah, well...zombies don't really get turned back very often, but uh...maybe if we knew the curse that started it, we could figure out how to break it."
"They said it was maybe a French word, and it started with 'S'," Chris recalled. "Super-something. " They waited for a reaction from Cody and Ted, but they had already degenerated past communication.
"Supernatural? " Evan offered. "Superiority? "
"Supercalifrajalisticexpealidocious ?" Taker suggested. "What?" he added as all eyes turned to him.
"Great, your brain's already started rotting," Kane groused. "There's no way I'm hanging out here with you."
"But you can't--" Chris started.
Taker raised an eyebrow, "Why not? I've had about enough of this guessing game. I'm about to go figure out how to reverse this myself." He rolled his eyes as Steve cocked the hammer of his gun. "We've been through that, Steve. It won't kill me."
Steve frowned. "How the hell do I kill him, then?" he asked Evan.
"Um, sometimes fire, sometimes decapitation- -"
"We are not setting anyone on fire!" Chris interjected.
"Sometimes just a wooden stake works. Like, um, that!" Darting to the side of the room, Evan grabbed a wooden-handled mop that had been leaning against the wall. Jogging back, he lowered the end of the mop to chest level and ran it straight into Taker's chest. It hit with a dull thump.
Taker blinked, looking down at the handle, then back up at Evan. "Did you just try to stab me with a mop?"
"Hmm. Maybe if I got more of a running start," Evan said, backing up to the far wall.
"Enough," Taker yelled. "I have had it with the biting and the shooting and the mop-stabbing! All I wanted to do tonight is sit here and eat my nachos in peace. But no, it had to turn into a zombie apocalypse. So fine, I'll just go figure out how to fix it myself." With that, he moved forward, brushing past his captors on the way to the door.
He had almost escaped when Steve shot him again, one bullet in each kneecap that sent him to the floor with a howl of more rage than pain. Kane, Ted, and Cody took it as a sign to attack and launched themselves at the rest of the wrestlers, who fought back with the makeshift weaponry they had gathered from the arena.
"What the hell do we do now?" Hunter demanded, cursing as Shawn bumped into him from behind. Shawn pivoted and kept running, barely dodging Kane's grasp as he shouted, "Zombie attack! Zombie attack! Zombie attack!”
"We can't kill 'em and we can't let 'em wander around biting people," Steve yelled back. "Let's get 'em locked up somewhere."
"We can't just stay here forever."
"I don't see why not."
John sighed. "Dude, there are actual zombies out there. And Lord knows our coworkers aren't going to be able to handle it without us."
"So what?" Randy shrugged. "They all get bitten, and then they leave, and then we can leave. No sense rushing."
"We can't just let them all get infected." Randy stared at him blankly. "OK, I can't let them all get infected. I have to see what's going on."
Randy frowned, then folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall. "Do what you have to do, I guess. I'm going to stay here and not get eaten, myself."
"Fine." John grabbed the door handle, then paused.
"Second thoughts, Superman?" Randy smirked.
"Randy. How did you lock this door?"
"Uh, it locked automatically when the door closed, remember?"
"It locked us inside."
Randy stiffened. "It what?"
"I can't open the door, Randy. It locked us in. We're stuck here."
Their eyes locked for a moment as John tried to control his rush of anger. Just when he had a grip on his emotions, Randy threw up his hands.
"Well, that's just great, Cena!" he spit accusatorily. "You just had to be a big superhero and get us stuck, didn't you?"
John sputtered. "I didn't--"
"Hey, we were just fine in here until you went and decided to save the world. We were happy with my plan. I was probably going to take a nap, but no, now I have to figure a way out of your mess."
"....I hate you so much right now."
Randy sniffed. "I certainly don't know why."
Their staredown resumed, each man stubbornly refusing to take the blame for the situation, when suddenly the heavy steel door swung open, knocking John several steps backwards.
"Outta the way, got zombies here," Steve announced as Kane, the Undertaker, Cody, and Ted were unceremoniously shoved into the room.
"Guys!" John shouted, caught halfway between relief and panic. "Get us out of he--"
The door slammed shut, locking with a click.
Kane looked down at the Undertaker, who was sitting on the floor attempting to snap his knees back into place. "Great, just what you needed. Another excuse not to walk."
Taker glared up at him. "Shut your big fat mouth and go find us something to eat. I'm starving." Then he paused, noticing Randy at the same time Kane's eyes swung around to find John.
"John," Randy said quietly, "I just want you to know that this is entirely your fault as well."
"I feel like we're missing something," Chris announced as the wrestlers made their way back to the cafeteria.
"Shawn and Hunter," Evan supplied. "They're gone."
"They're...wait, did we lock them in with the zombies?"
"Nah, they're fine. They just went around the corner kissing and stuff. It was kind of gross."
Steve grunted in agreement. "That's pretty damn gross all right. That's grosser than when I popped Cody's eyeball right out of the soc-"
"Steve," Punk pleaded, looking sick to his stomach. "We all saw it. Let's just not talk about it, OK?"
"Yeah, I guess." Steve stopped just inside the cafeteria, surveying the wreckage from the fight. "What do we do now?"
"Well," Chris suggested hesitantly, "Now that we have the zombies all safely tucked away in one place, we can try to figure out how to turn them back."
"But we don't know the S-word from the curse," Evan pointed out.
"And Cody and Ted certainly aren't helping," Punk added.
Chris snapped his fingers. "But the witch might." When the rest of the wrestlers stared blankly at him, he continued, "If she put a curse on, she can take it off, right? At the very least, maybe we can get her to tell us what she said, so we can figure it out from there."
"I think I can find her!" Evan chimed in. "Ted and Cody kind of mentioned the area they were going to, and I think I can find it."
"--an't believe you did that!" Hunter shouted as he stormed through the cafeteria door, Shawn following at his heels.
"I said I was sorry."
"What happened?" Steve snapped. "Unless it's some of your fruity stuff. Then I don't want to know."
"Get this, Steve," Hunter said, tossing his hair in irritation. "Shawn and I were kind of excited we beat the zombies, right, so we went to our locker room--"
"Hey! What'd I just say about fruity stuff?"
"--and we were getting it on, and--"
"I don't want to hear this no more." Steve stuck his index fingers squarely into his ears. "LA LA LA LA LA LA..."
"Oh, it gets better. So we were getting it on, and Shawn here has the great fucking idea to go down on me--"
"Yeah, what an asshole," Punk muttered sarcastically.
"And then he bites me. Bites my dick!"
Steve stopped singing immediately, and the wrestlers froze in horrified silence.
"Not hard," Shawn offered lamely. "Only a little. And not actually on your dick, it was more like on--"
"Anywhere near my dick is too close to be biting, Shawn!" Hunter screamed.
Shawn shrugged uncomfortably. "Sorry. I'm a zombie, OK? Seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Wait," Chris interjected. "You're a zombie? Since when?"
"Oh, Ted bit me a little before the fight."
"And you didn't think to mention it to the group at large?"
"Not really. I guess it occurred to me, but then I started to think about food instead. Was that wrong?"
"Great." Steve threw his hands in the air in disgust. "Now we gotta put you two with the rest of the zombies before you go zombie-sexing everybody else."
"Yeah, about that," Hunter stated calmly. "I let them out."
"I figured if I was going to have to be a zombie now, at least everyone else should have to be zombies, too. So they're attacking the rest of the locker room. Except for Taker, I think, who is probably still just complaining. "
"Guys?" Chris said softly. "I'm thinking it's time to find that witch."
With that, all four wrestlers sprinted towards the parking lot.
“Get in the damn truck!” Steve yelled as the only four humans raced into the parking lot with half the zombified locker room on their heels. As they jumped in the monster truck, Steve gunned the engine and laid on the gas pedal. As he headed out of the parking lot, Hunter stepped in front of the truck, flexed, and growled ‘Stop!’ Steve pushed harder on the gas and rammed right into Hunter’s body running over it as he continued forward.
“Ha ha ha!” Steve laughed delightedly “I ran over Hunter! D’yall see that? It was almost better than shooting his sorry zombie ass.”
Steve pulled a left out of the parking lot on squealing tires. As the other three looked back, they could see Hunter getting to his feet with the aid of Shawn as the rest of the locker room raced past.
“Ew! Half of his face is just gone. That’s fucking gross.” Punk said in disgust.
Steve just shrugged and said, “Yeah, well that’s what he gets for being Hunter. So, kid, which way?” This last was directed at Evan.
As Steve drove with Evan periodically giving him directions, Punk leaned over and whispered to Evan, “So, you watch a lot of these zombie movies, right?”
Evan nodded his head vigorously, “Oh, yeah.”
“So, what normally happens?” Punk said in a mildly interested tone.
Evan cocked his head, “Well, about the same as what’s happening now. People turn into zombies, kill everyone, and eat them while the hero tries to find a way to stop them.”
Punk nodded, “Right, so who normally survives in these situations?”
“Well, the hero always makes it and usually his chick who is someone he used to date that he has sex with while he’s fighting the zombies…that’s pretty much it.”
“Oh.” Punk’s eyes darted quickly to the other wrestlers in the truck.
“Yeah, so it’s good this isn’t a movie. All but one of us would die in the end.”
Punk shifted in his seat and nodded at Evan, “Yeah, good thing.” Then he quietly settled back in the seat as they entered the edge of town that Cody and Ted had visited the night before.
“Steve, pull over.” Chris pointed out the window. “That sign advertises palm readings.”
They parked the truck and climbed out in front of the small storefront.
“This better damn well work, Jericho. Them zombies ain’t that far behind. I’ve never seen some of those guys move so fast.” Steve grumbled as he stomped up the stairs.
When they entered the door, a woman looked up from where she was lighting some incense.
“Good afternoon, gentleman. May I help you?”
“I’m hoping you can, ma’am. A couple of our co-workers were here last night…” Chris was interrupted by the cocking of Steve’s gun as he leveled it at the woman.
“And, now they’re zombie bastards. So, you’re gonna do whatever hoodoo magic you gotta do to turn ‘em back or I’ll shoot ya.”
“Steve, put the gun down.” Chris hissed. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. What he’s saying is true, though. They came in here to get their palms read and said you put a curse on them, which I don’t really blame you for because they do deserve it, but now they’ve turned our entire locker room into zombies, and these are not optimal conditions to work under. I hope you can sympathize with our situation and help us resolve this matter.”
“Or I’ll shoot ya,” Steve added.
As the woman paused to look from the gun to Steve to Chris and back to the gun, Punk looked out the window and threw up his hands. “Fucking great! Guys, the entire locker room just turned the corner heading this way. So, find the fucking cure and do it fucking ASAP.”
Steve eyed the woman, “You heard him. Cure, now.”
“Gentleman, please calm down. I wish I could aid you in your quest, but I do not recall this curse you speak of. Last night was quite busy with it being Halloween and all, you see, I placed curses on several troubling clients.”
“Ma’am. Please…” Chris was once again interrupted, this time by the firing of Steve’s gun.
As he woman crumpled to the ground, Chris swung wide eyes to Steve as he casually lowered his weapon.
“What the fuck was that, Steve?! You just shot the only lead we had to breaking this damn curse and turning everyone back!”
“She wasn’t gonna tell us anything. I could tell. She said so. So, I shot her. “ Steve shrugged.
“Uh, guys, zombies at the door,” Evan nervously interrupted.
As they all looked at the door, they could see Cody and Ted coming up the steps.
Punk gestured at Evan, “Come on. Help me lock the door real quick.”
As Evan stepped over to the door, Punk jerked it open and pushed him through. Evan froze as Cody and Ted loomed closer and turned wide eyes on Punk through the door. As Cody and Ted pounced, he gave a squeak of surprise.
“Sorry, kid. It was either this or sleep with you. One less person, one more chance for me to make it through this. “ Punk shrugged and turned to look at Steve and Chris.
Before he could say anything, Steve was behind him shoving him out the door and slamming it shut in his face while throwing the deadbolt lock.
“Sorry, kid. You got a point there.”
Punk howled in outrage as Evan pounced, “You stole my fucking idea and used it against me! I fucking hate you! You’re fucking paying for this, Steve! I fucking swear I’m going to eat you. Not even turn you into a zombie, I’m just going to fucking eat you and your gun. I swear!”
Steve turned back to Chris who was glaring at him.
“Steve, we are surrounded by zombies who used to be our co-workers in a place with huge windows and a glass door that they’re going to get through any minute and you shot the only person who could have helped us!”
At that moment, the front door imploded in a shower of glass as the zombies rushed through. Chris and Steve grabbed the closest things within reach throwing them at the advancing crowd. When that didn’t work, Steve started shooting. Chris whirled toward the door to run, but was blocked by Kane who grabbed his arm, bent down, and bit his neck.
Chris jerked back and froze, staring at Kane incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Kane shrugged unapologetically. “Zombie, remember? And I hadn’t got to bite anyone yet.”
“You got bit?” Steve demanded from across the room, firing a bullet into Chris’ back before he could answer. “Serves your whiny, Canadian, maple-syrup tasting ass right. You’ve been bitching all day.”
Chris glared at him. “Yeah, Steve, that’s just great. Now the only person in the group with even the slightest sense of logic and self-preservation is a zombie. You sure showed me.”
“Jesus Christ, kid.” Steve rolled his eyes, then lowered his gun, waving CM Punk closer to him. “Come on over here, boy, I’m sick and tired of Jericho bitching about this, that, and the other. ‘Whaa, whaa, whaa, I’m a zombie now, nobody likes me, yadda yadda yadda.’ Go ahead, take a bite,” he added to the slightly confused Punk.
Punk hesitantly leaned forward, eyeing Steve’s gun mistrustfully, but Steve didn’t flinch as Punk bit down on his arm.
“There ya go,” Steve announced, nodding approvingly. “Now we’re all zombies, so quit your bitching and man up, Jericho.”
Chris stared incredulously. “Are you retarded? Now we’re all zombies.”
The statement pulled Hunter up short. “So, what, we won? What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
The wrestlers stood in silence for a moment before the Undertaker shrugged, turning to Kane. “I don’t know of any rule saying that zombies can’t eat zombies, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, he sank his teeth into Kane’s throat.
“Son of a bitch!” Kane roared, fighting back as the room erupted into chaos. Steve laughed at the mess, raising his gun again and firing randomly into the crowd of zombies.
Chris shook his head disgustedly, shoving Evan away as he tried to attack his leg. Evan shrugged and cheerfully disappeared into the crowd, looking for a new victim, and Chris sighed deeply, dropping slowly to the ground.
“Why couldn’t I have gotten a normal job?” he moaned to himself. “All I wanted was to go to work and be talented and not to have to fight off hordes of supernaturally powerful flesh-eating coworkers.” Cody jumped him, interrupting the soliloquy, but Chris impatiently batted him away. “Get lost, Cody, this is entirely your fault anyway. If you hadn’t provoked a woman that you already knew had mystical powers with your self-centered, arrogant, supercilious posturing, we wouldn’t—“
He blinked as the room suddenly quieted. All evidence of zombiism had vanished, leaving all the wrestlers fully intact and unharmed.
“Um…wait, are we better now?” Shawn asked.
The Undertaker ignored him, using the distraction to sneak one more vicious bite into Kane’s arm.
“We aren’t zombies anymore!” Kane yelled.
Taker shrugged, “I’m still hungry.”
Chris looked around, confused. “I don’t…what happened?”
“And what the hell does ‘supercilious’ mean?” Steve demanded.
Instantly, they were zombies again, rotting flesh dangling from broken bones.
“That was the word!” Cody grunted excitedly, trying hard to make himself understood. “Super…”
“Supercilious,” Chris supplied. “It means arrogant.” As soon as the word left his mouth, the wrestlers transformed back to their usual selves.
“It’s a code word!” Evan shouted excitedly. “If the witch used it during the curse, sometimes saying it will take the curse off.”
“Wait, what’s the code word?” Hunter asked.
“Supercilious,” Shawn said, then frowned as his flesh resumed rotting. “Well, shit.”
“Stop saying it,” Chris yelled. “For the love of God, people, I’m going to say this one time…supercilious,” he paused until everyone had returned to normal, “and then no one ever say it again, OK?”
“You heard the man,” Steve confirmed. “Don’t let me catch nobody saying supercilious ever again.”
“STEVE,” the wrestlers yelled as they turned back to zombies.
“You keep turning us back,” Punk explained. “You can’t say it either, or we’ll all be zombies.”
“Well, maybe I like being a zombie,” Steve countered. “I can still shoot people, right?”
“My arm just fell off,” the Undertaker complained, much to Kane’s delight.
“Look,” said Chris tiredly. “I just want to go home. So let’s all say it one time, all together now, and then we can all agree never to say it again, OK?”
Reluctantly agreeing, the wrestlers let Chris count them down. “3…2…1…supercilious!”
“Good,” Chris nodded. “Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m getting the hell out of here.” He had made it twenty feet out the door towards the nearest door before he heard Steve call from the house, “Hey, Jericho! Good job figuring out that whole supercilious thing!”