Friday, October 26, 2012

Bathroom Monologue: Herman Crab, Zombie Shield



After his third car, Herman finally embraced his nickname. Kids back in elementary school had called him “Herman Crab” because his skin burned like a boiled lobster at recess. It didn’t matter to those kids that hermit crabs weren’t bright red. They hadn’t gotten to that unit yet. Now, years after they’d all be done with school, most of those people were probably dead.

What defined a hermit crab was its soft exterior and inability to make its own defense against predators. Herman presumed, if hermit crabs were also fending off the zombie apocalypse, then they were in constant search for shells under undead seafood. Herman certainly needed them, though his shells came with four tires.

The first night that Detroit was waylaid by the undead, Herman had been in a fight with Clarice in the front seat of his Smart Car. She was the love of his life, but he was a disappointing meal ticket to her. She hated that little car, and said so in her last words, before slamming the door and walking up the street. He watched after her, uncertain of what to say until a zombie dragged her into an alley. Then he knew what to say: a lot of swear words.

The undead fondled his windshield. One seemed to try to make out with his driver’s side window. They were many and terrifying, but they were also inept and unable to make a fist. At dawn they were still smooshing up against his windows. At dawn, he finally lost the terror of the apocalypse and drove away. He felt awkward, not having been eaten. It seemed rude, at least until his Smart Car got stuck in a mire of human remains.

That was when the Herman Crab came to life. He climbed out through a rear window, hopping into an abandoned Jeep. That had much less trouble running over corpses. Two miles later, he shed the Jeep for a Chevy Silverado that turned zombie into speed bumps.

As the apocalypse wore on, Herman came to realize leg room was more important than company. Groups of survivors shot at you, or held conferences on whether you were trustworthy, or screamed about infections. Cars didn’t do that. Cars sat there, abandoned on the highway, waiting for a patient man to siphon their gas, or to move enough out of the way so that he could drive off in the biggest one.

Today he stood on the roof of a Ford Bronco, squinting a new dawn. He shielded his eyes from the sun and scanned an overpass for anything reliable. He crossed his fore- and middlefinger over his eyebrow, hoping against hope for a monster truck.

14 comments:

  1. Where do you get these ideas?! Very unique!

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  2. Agreed - people are overrated, but their cars are still perfectly good.

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  3. When we had a Ford Explorer, I used to say I would only begin to like it after the zombie apocalypse began. You could bowl for zombies all day long with one of those, and do it in luxury. Then, in one of the wife's better-fated moves, she traded it for a Civic just before gas prices went through the roof!

    You know, the ending reminds me of a convo you had on Twitter this week. ;-) Which makes it even funnier.

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  4. I love the name "Herman Crab". I love the idea of this character being hardened by survival but also remembering a softer side before. Excellent!

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  5. If I couldn't have my loved ones with me, I'd spend all my time looking for a car version of "the one" as well.

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  6. Just like one man's trash is another man's treasure, apparently one person's apocalypse is another's ticket to heaven. :-) Fun story!

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  7. Cars are nice and must be excellent protection agains zombies, but I hope Herman finds some decent people to hang out with eventually, hard as that can be even in the best of times.

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  8. I like Herman. That's one of the things I would like about the apocalypse too. All those cars I could drive. The zombies making out and fondling his car was very funny.

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  9. Okay, they'll be useful for a while after the zombie apocalypse, at least until they run out of gas.

    So that's one good use for SUVs...

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  10. Patience will pay off no doubt! Have car will travel.

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  11. I love the way your mind works! This is a fantastic way of viewing survival.

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  12. Upgrading to a monster truck sounds like a smart move to me, only problem is the lousy Gallon/Mileage. :-)

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  13. Well, there comes the ralization that even the Apocalypse is a lonely ride!
    This is a good idea of how to survive methinks. Bigger cars. More often.

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