John Brownstone loves The Walking Dead. The kind of love that requires everyone leave him alone for an hour because his show is on. The kind of love that means he doesn’t hear anything, see anything, know anything while the show is on.
Me? Not that interested. Well…mostly.
See, the thing is, I don’t like to be scared, freaked out, or surprised too much. I’m the one who was creeped out by the Unsolved Mysteries music and the voice of the host. I still get the shivers when I think of the pig faces in the one episode of The Twilight Zone I watched when I was a kid. Hell, some parts of Doctor Who (back in the 1980s with Tom Baker) even freaked me out.
Tell me that people-eating, never-really-dying zombies are a thing on TV, and I’m avoiding it like the plague.
So no, I never got into The Walking Dead, and you won’t catch me watching zombie movies.
Until John Brownstone.
For a long time, he didn’t watch his beloved show. And when he got back into it, with a few binge-watching sessions, I made sure to be anywhere else but in front of the TV or computer.
Basically, I did my best to ignore the show’s existence. And then something big happened in the world of The Walking Dead (season 5), and I (from sheer curiosity) clicked on it. It was full of spoilers, so I couldn’t send it to John Brownstone, but I did what I think was the nicest thing to do.
“OMG, Daddy, you sooooo need to watch the last few episodes of your show.”
“Huh? What’s going on? And why are you telling me this?”
“I can’t tell you why because ‘spoilers, sweetie,’ but believe me when I say you need to watch.”
So he did. And I was there. I hid behind my book, but the damn show is too freaking good. It sucked me in.
I don’t know anyone’s name. I don’t know any backstory (and no, I’m not interested in knowing). But damn it, when someone dies, I’m sad. When characters have sex with one another, I’m interested. When the drama happens – because it always does – my eyes are glued to the screen, book forgotten in my hand, until…
And then I’m reminded why I don’t want to watch this damn show, and I hide behind my book again. Until the next dramatic scene sucks me back in.
But no, I really, really, really don’t like zombies.
Welcome to Wicked Wednesday. This week’s prompt is zombies, and there’s a chance someone wrote zombie erotica (but not me!). Go forth and find out what zombie erotica is like while I hide behind a book because I really don’t want to see or think about such a thing.