Zombie Exterminators

"Bugger it, Roswell, get yer bony ass back here!"

"Never!"

"ROS!  You get over here right now so help me--!"

A crash echoes through the suburban home.  From the outside, there is nothing particularly remarkable about it, but if one were to step inside, one would think a miniature tornado had quite literally passed through.  The walls are chipped and cracked, beams are broken, the ceiling hangs low with large slabs of drywall missing and insulation hanging like cobwebs.  Another unusual feature would be the enormous amount of weapons strewn across the place, from shotguns to assault rifles to snipers and even a few RPGs.  

Stranger yet are the inhabitants of this homestead.

Currently, two figures are engaged in a furious chase around the first floor.  One is nothing short of a giant killing machine; half metal and wires, half bones and sinew, it truly is an object of terror.  Red light emits from a lens embedded into the boney skull of the behemoth, and huge meter long arms hang at its side.  Its torso is little more than a metal replica of a ribcage, with wires and metal supports attaching the torso to a rectangular base equipped with tank-like treads.  Just out of reach of the cyborg zombie is a six-inch tall skeleton alien, with a lemon-shaped skull and long clawed arms almost as long as the alien is tall.  Clutched in the alien's grasps are two bony fingers.  The same two fingers that are missing from the cyborg's right skeletal hand.

"ROSWELL!" the cyborg roars.  "GIVE THEM BACK!"

"Finders keepers, losers weepers!" the alien sings as he rounds another bend.  A loud guttural roar erupts from the cyborg zombie as he kicks his treads into overdrive.  He's gaining fast, but Roswell is so small it's difficult for him to grab.

"I'm going to shove you so far down the toilet after I'm done locking you up in a jar!" the cyborg yells shrilly.  

"Oh!  You cannot get rid of me so easily, my little pumpkin-head!  For I am a master of navigation in all things pipe-y and sewage-y!"  

The cyborg makes a mad sweep with his left hand.  Unlike his right, it isn't a hand at all, rather, it is a three pronged metal claw, with enough torque in its grip to crush skulls like walnuts.  

Especially tiny lemon-shaped skulls.

Roswell easily jumps over the claw-hand, and with a few well-placed leaps, he is now skittering atop the shelves, just out of the cyborg's reach.

"GIVE ME BACK MY FINGERS YOU LITTLE CRETIN!"

"But these will look absolutely perfect next to my other trophies!" Roswell protests as he scampers around like mad. "Right next to the mounted rat skull!  It'll be a work of art!"

Roswell leaps from the cabinets, just in time to dodge the metal claw that had smashed into the spot he stood only a millisecond before.  He scurries across the ground, but suddenly, a glass jar drops on top of him and scoops him up.  Roswell looks around in a rage, wondering who had dared to trap him.

The perpetrator holding him is the third member of their quite dysfunctional family.  A tall scrawny figure dressed in a yellow hazmat suit and emitting a strange green neon glow holds Roswell, and the tiny alien sneers up at his captor.

"Et tu, Bernie?" he cries dramatically.

Bernie rolls his eyes.  The gesture is barely noticeable, as his eyes are nearly lost in his skeletal eye-sockets.  His face is nothing more than a skull covered in green skin so shrunken and mummified it's hard to tell there's any skin at all.  He then turns to glare at the cyborg zombie.

"Mango, what is the meaning of all this?" he asks sternly.  "I only need three hours of sleep a week yet you two constantly keep waking me up with all your ruckus!" 
 
"He started it!" Mango growls, jabbing a finger at Roswell.  But in all the confusion, Roswell had dropped Mango's missing fingers, and the cyborg quickly scoops them up before the mischievous alien can run off with them again.  "Now give him to me so I can flush him down the toilet!"

"Weeeee! Adventure time!" Roswell cries out with delight.

"Absolutely not!" Bernie yells.  "I'm not letting you flush him down the toilet just so he can come crawling back up, covered in human wastes, and draw all over the walls with it!"

"You cannot contain my artistic passion!" Roswell retaliates.  "A creative mind must wander free!"

Bernie has heard enough.  Keeping the lid on the jar tight, he drops a heavy crate  on top of it, heavy enough to contain Roswell, but not so heavy as to break the jar.

"There.  Now if you'll excuse me," Bernie says, and turns to retire back to his bedroom to catch back up on some much-needed rest.  The last few months for the glowing radioactive zombie have been rather stressful and he has barely slept seven hours in the past two months.  Mango, on the other hand, is grateful Rowell is temporarily out of the way (knowing him, he'd just come back like a bad sequel no one was looking forward to) and took advantage of the momentary peace to weld his fingers back onto his hand.  

The peace doesn't last long.  Not three minutes later, the front door opens and in walks a fourth figure.  But unlike the three undead occupants, this one is fully alive, or at least, the three zombie residents think he is.  A man of average height and lean build steps over the threshold, wearing a white lab coat and heavy black welding goggles over his eyes.  Mango turns around and greets the engineer with a grunt.

"You three aren't trying to kill each other.  I think that may be a first," the man remarks casually.

"Yeah, you just missed me trying to crush that little bugger," Mango seethes, gesturing over to Roswell, still trapped inside a jar.  Roswell returns with an equally rude gesture.

"Anyway, where's Bernie?  An assignment's just come up, we're going to need all three of you on this," he says.  

"An assignment?! OH BOY!" Roswell squeals with delight.  "Any psychic children? Any innocent victims I can slash and cut and rip eyeballs out of?!  Please tell me there will be eyeball ripping!"

"Shut your annoying little gob!  Bugger it all . . ." Mango growls.  "I'll go fetch the glowing lawn ornament."

"I heard that, Mango!" Bernie whines from the next room over.  "And just so you know it's not like I can help it!"

"Just shut up and get in here," Mango says.  Moments later they are joined by a rather annoyed and cranky green zombie.

"So what's the assignment, Dr. Nirad?" Bernie asks.

"Alright, listen up, I just got word of a massive Beta 30 anthropomorphic Audrey plant on the outskirts of Chicago.  It's fungi-based, mobile, incredibly fast regenerative properties and a high rate of infection."

"This will be fun," Mango sneers, cracking his knuckles.  It's been a while since the cyborg's gone up against a worthy adversary.

"Bernie, you're going to be at the front," Dr. Nirad continues.  "Your gamma radiation is our best bet of snuffing this thing out.  Mango, get the flame throwers.  Guns will be practically useless against this thing."

"Aye-aye, sir," Mango says.  The lens in his eye shifts from red to green, indicating his good mood.  He was looking forward to toasting some zombies.

"And Roswell—" Dr. Nirad begins as he carefully releases the alien from its glass prison.  He doesn't even get a chance to finish before the little thing is bouncing off the walls in excitement.  Roswell lands on the kitchen counter and grabs a meat cleaver twice as big as he is and waves it over his head, letting out a shrill battle cry.

"BRING ON THE MONSTERS!" he shouts.  "I'm gonna chop it up until it's fertilizer and then I'm gonna EAT IT!"

"….Roswell you just do your thing," Dr. Nirad mutters as he rubs the bridge of his nose.  "Ok, people, let's get moving."
----------------------------------

Five minutes later, the three zombies and the scientist have loaded up all the necessary gear and climbs into an unmarked black van.  Mango is forced to lay on an incline so his bulk could even fit and Bernie seats himself towards the front, where Dr. Nirad continues to fill them in.

"Remember, this is a fungi plant, the only way to kill it is to fry every square inch of it," he says.  "Mango, Bernie, I'm counting on you guys."

"You got it, boss," Mango replies.

"I hope it doesn't have thorns, this is my fifth suit in two weeks," Bernie moans as he adjusts the straps around his wrists.  

"Oh fer crying out loud do you ever stop whining?"

"Well the last thing we need is for my suit to rip and then Dr. Nirad will be exposed to all sorts of radiation!"

"You have at least six spare suits right here in this van!"

"A necessary precaution!  Wait, I only see five!  Where's the other one?!"

"Bugger it, you always find something to worry about."

"Mango!  I need that suit!"

"I ripped it apart and fed it to the zombie rat!" Roswell butts in with a malicious cackle.

"Roswell, you did not!"

In the front seat, Dr. Nirad cranks up the music to drown out the bickering zombies.  They only continue to argue until they finally reach their destination, at which Dr. Nirad slams on the brakes, jarring all of them.  The arguments stop, for now.

"We're here, boys," he says as he steps out of the van and opens the back doors, letting out the three zombies.  "I really don't think we'll be needing the dinner bell for this one . . ."

"Why n—oh my goodness," Bernie murmurs.  "That's . . . that's a big plant."

Towering in front of the quartet is a conglomeration of sickly green vines and plants, at least three stories high and wide enough to stretch across a highway.  Tentacle-like vines whip out from the central mass, curling around long abandoned buildings and crushing the brick structures like soda cans.  All sorts of enormous flowers of all sorts of disgusting colors dot the surface of the hulking blob, and what seems to be palm trees stick out at random intervals.  The thing is slowly but surely making its way across the deserted town, the vines grabbing anything in its way.  One of the vines wraps itself around a broken-down car, and it lifts it up.  As it does so, the plant splits open, forming a maw big enough to swallow a house with huge meter-long thorns for teeth.  The vine drops the car down into the "mouth" and the plant gobbles it up whole.  More vines work to grab anything in its way and to throw it down the bottomless stomach of the monstrosity.

"If that thing eats me I'm not going to be happy about it in the slightest," Bernie sighs.  Unfortunately for the radioactive zombie, he has been eaten far more times than he cares to remember.

"Come on boys what are you waiting for?!" Roswell screams in delight.  He hefts the cleaver above his head and sprints like mad towards the monster.

"KOWABUNGAAAAAAA MOTHER-FUCKER!"

At first Bernie and Mango thought it was Roswell that had yelled that, but two things keep them from making that assumption.  First of all, the voice is very far away, and secondly, the voice was clearly feminine.

"What in the world . . . ?"

"Ah, bugger it all," Mango growls.  "We've got a civilian on the scene."

A small figure launches itself off a tall building, diving head-first into the behemoth.  From their position, Bernie and Roswell can hardly make out the figure, but Mango is equipped with a lens perfectly capable of taking readings from a great distance.  The first thing he sees is a stout young woman with dirty blond hair lunge at the fungi, two short metal rake clutched in her hands.  She tears at the plant, the rake's three prongs digging deep into the mushy green "flesh".  The creature lets out an unholy wail as the woman attacks, and its many vines flail in pain.  Neon green goop flies everywhere as the woman continues to hack at the thing.

"Bernie!  Quit standing there like an idiot and fry the thing!" Mango yells. 
 
"I can't!  I can hurt her!" Bernie wails.  His hand clenches into a fist but he refuses to make a move towards the thing.  His body chemistry allows him to expel more than enough radiation to kill a human in seconds, and with a living coherent person nearby he refuses to take the chance.  Mango growls, and revs up his treads to a full-speed charge.  

Along with a claw-hand, Mango's left arm is equipped with a full-sized, fully functional chainsaw.  He lets the chainsaw loose and it roars to life, and with a savage cry he charges head-first, ripping apart the thing with ease.

The woman, on the other hand, has taken note of the cyborg and radioactive zombie.  "Well that's perfect, two more to deal with," she murmurs.  But first, this thing.

On her back is a tank full of very toxic chemicals, her own brand of heavy-duty weed-killer.  Grabbing the hose, she points it at the giant green plant monster and lets the chemicals run loose.  As soon as the chemicals touch its skin, it begins to shrink and shrivel away, flailing and screeching in agony.  One of the vines catches her in the side and flings her clean off the monster.

"Well crap," she mutters as she begins to plummet 30 feet to the ground.

"MANGO!" Bernie cries, pointing up at the falling girl.

Mango twists away from the vines just in time to see the girl falling.  With an irritated growl, Mango pulls himself away and barrels directly underneath the girl.  With a computer chip planted into his brain, he is able to calculate exactly where she will fall, and catches her with ease.  

Understandably, the girl is pleasantly surprised when she lands and isn't turned into a puddle of gorey goop.  What she isn't so pleasantly surprised about is that she has landed right into the arms of a towering, six foot tall cyborg zombie.

She glances up at it, and her eyes briefly make contact with one empty eye socket, and one glowing orange lens.

"RELEASE ME YOU DEMON!" she cries, and swiftly delivers a powerful kick to the side of Mango's skull.

Mango drops her, and scoots backwards.  As much as he'd love to at the moment, he can't kill or harm an innocent civilian.  "Girl, if you know what's best for you, you'd high-tail it out of here and leave this to the professionals!"

The woman stops, and gapes at the zombie.  "You can talk.  Well, call me crazy but there's a first time for everything I suppose."  She readies her metal rakes in her hands and charges. "HAVE AT YE!"

The metal prongs bounce harmlessly off the zombie's reinforced skull, and he swats them away with a flick of his wrist.  "Hey!  Bugger it, knock it off!  We're the good guys!"

"A likely story!" she says as she continues to bat at the zombie.  She might as well be smacking a feather at a brick wall for all the damage she's doing to Mango, but she's relentless.  "There's no such thing as a good zombie!"

"Miss!  Miss!" Bernie butts in.  "It's alright!  We are with the ZED—"

"And apparently the ZED sucks at its job!" the woman retaliates.  She turns on Bernie and delivers a swift and powerful kick to Bernie's stomach, and a loud CRACK can be heard.  Bernie topples over, clutching his torso.  Being a zombie he cannot feel pain, but a few broken ribs were still something to be concerned about.

"Ohhh, they better not tear up my suit!" he frets.

"Heeeeeeere's Roswell!" a shrill voice cackles loudly.
  
The woman turns around just in time to see a small skeleton flying straight at her face and wielding a giant meat cleaver.  With a swift move, she deflects the blade, and the two begin to duel, their weapons creating a shower of sparks as they dance around each other.

"Foolish female, you dare to trespass against me?!  I am a master of all culinary weapons and I shall dice you up and devour you like the delicious appetizer you are!" Roswell squeals as he flips clear over the woman's head and prepares to stab her in the back.  But the woman is faster than the zombie anticipates, and she whirls around just in time to knock him out of the air and send him flying.

"Little cretin!  You think I shall be taken down so easily?" she cries as she leaps back into action, her rakes clashing against Roswell's meat cleaver.

"Um, I know I might just be a smidgen out of place here, but am I the only one concerned at all about the GIANT FUNGI PLANT MONSTER RIGHT BEHIND US?!" Bernie yells at the top of his lungs.

Mango wheels around and glares at Bernie.  "Why don't you go fry it while those two idiots are distracted?!"

Bernie's eye sockets widen by perhaps a fraction of an inch.  "Ah!  Excellent idea!"  He turns and runs towards the plant while ripping off his right glove.  He lifts his skeletal green hand, and the glow intensifies.

"NO!  THE BEAST IS MINE!" the woman abruptly shouts, and charges straight towards the fungi.  Bernie panics, lowering his hand and lessening his glow so as not to accidentally hurt the girl.

"Ma'am!  I am warning you!  I am a Delta 10!  Highly radioactive and highly dangerous!  I advise you to stay out of the way!"

"No, you stay outta my way, Green Lantern!" the woman yells as she leaps back at the thing.  Taking out her spray hose once again, she douses the surface of the plant in a fine green mist, and wherever the mist touches, the surface of the plant turns brown and begins to wither and die.  The plant lurches backwards, squawking and flailing all over.  Roswell joins the fray, slashing at any tentacles that come close enough.  The vines splatter on the ground, and Bernie moves quickly to zap them with enough radiation to kill them before the vines can snake off and become a new fungus monster. 
 
Mango's just about had enough.  He's not about to let some smart-mouthed girl take away his kill!  He grabs the flame thrower, hooks it up to the base of his platform, and charges forward, letting the flames fly.  The effect is immediate; the flames lick all across the plant's surface, scorching everything it touches.  It continues to flail and it slowly worms its way backwards into a retreat.  The vines keep whipping about and several huge vines, at least five feet in diameter, barrel down upon Mango.  But with a swing of his chainsaw, the vines are sliced right off.  Bernie is struggling to keep up with frying all the stray vines without giving off enough radiation to cause harm to the girl.

"You're not going to kill it by simply cutting off a few vines!" Bernie shouts.

"Then zap the thing!"

"I can't!  I can hurt her!"

Mango roars in agitation but he keeps at it with the flame thrower.  Meanwhile, on top of the plant, the woman is busy continuing to spray her chemical concoction all over the thing.  It's quite apparent it is working; most of the visible surface is brown and withered.  Vines are curling up and cracking under their own weight.  The motion of the plant beast itself has slowed to a sluggish jerk and the cries of pain emanating from the thing are becoming weaker and weaker.  With more flames, more chemicals, and more radiation, the fungus zombie is soon nothing more than a heap of brown, dead withered compost.

The woman steps back, admiring her work while wiping off the sweat that has beaded on her forehead.  "Works every time," she chimes in delight.  She places her rakes in a holder just above her weed killer tank, and trudges off, where she almost runs face-first into a very angry cyborg zombie.

"You," she seethes, pointing a finger at him.

"You," he retaliates, jabbing a bony finger at her.  "Have made my job a hell of a lot harder than it had to be."

"I was here first!  I got dibs on this thing, and no thanks to you, I killed it!"

"Like hell you did!  I had to save your ass!"

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Says the one who would have been bloody road kill if it weren't for me!"

"Well maybe if you hadn't shown up I wouldn't have been so distracted!"

"That's utter bullshit and you know it!"

"Makes no difference, I killed it, thank you very much!"

"Like bloody hell you did!  I took out at least half of it with my flamethrowers!"

"No way!  My weed killer totally demolished that thing!"

"You'd be DEAD without our help!"

"Both of you, please stop!" Bernie cries.  For a moment the woman and Mango cease their bickering to glare at the green zombie.  "Now, I think we can all agree we all had a part in killing the Audrey monstrosity, and we thank you for your assistance, but as ZED we have the responsibility for handling things like this as well as receiving payment for doing so."

"Hey, let's get one thing straight, firefly," the girl says, poking Bernie in the chest.  "I was here first.  The Rogues hired me out.  I killed it.  And now I'm gonna get paid for it.  End of story."

"The what?" Bernie asks.

"Rogues.  A rag-tag group of self-proclaimed zombie and monster exterminators."
Bernie and Mango turn to see Dr. Nirad approach.  He walks straight past the two zombies and straight up towards the girl.  

"Shia Rhode I presume," he says.

"Ah, a smart-ass," she says, folding her arms across her chest.  "And how do you know my name?"

"Your reputation precedes you," Dr. Nirad says simply.  "As I remember you have an impressive resume of tackling plant-like monsters and fungi zombies."

"It's my specialty," Shia nods affirmatively.  "And I'm assuming you're gonna try to convince me this gang of bone heads are your little personal army?"

"Skull puns are not appreciated," Mango growls dangerously.  His lens flickers from orange to red.

"These are the top three zombie exterminators the world has ever known," Dr. Nirad continues quite calmly.  "We are the Zombie Extermination Department's number one squad."

"Zombies killing zombies, now that's a laugh," Shia remarks.  She eyes the two zombies, and looks around.  "Hey, wasn't there a little one with you?"

"Roswell," the three grumble in unison.  As if on cue, the brown mass of the plant monster twitches, and said alien bursts out of the mess, covered in slime and happily swinging around his meat cleaver while singing a show tune.

"I'm just a mean green mother from outer space and I am bad!" he sings as he bounced up to perch on Mango's shoulder.  Mango growls at him in response.

"Get off of me, you little rat."

"I know you love me."

Mango's only response is more unintelligible growling.

"Bernie is right, though.  We were hired out but the United States government to personally dispose of the Audrey plant—"

"But I got here first and I killed it, so therefore I claim this kill as my own," Shia said proudly.  "You can go ahead and take your three little toys home, I can manage from here."

"Absolutely not," Dr. Nirad says.  He walks forward, and picks up a fleshy mass of the dead plant.  "Not without some samples, at least," he adds with a crooked grin.

Mango rolls right up to the woman, and the two immerse in an intense stare-down.  Shia is not intimidated in the slightest, although she is staring at the number one zombie exterminator in the world.  She has seen all sorts of monsters and horrors that have more than numbed her to the world.  She had witnessed firsthand loved ones and relatives fall to zombie hordes, and she has fought against monsters every day of her young life. 
 
Come to think of it, she remembers hearing about this so-called Mango, but the details were sketchy.  She remembers hearing tales about a fearsome zombie slaughtering werewolves in Ireland, and how the same cyborg single-handedly took down an army of reanimated Nazi soldiers.  Shia had at first figured them to be far too outlandish to be actually true, and thought them nothing more than tall tales to give whatever remained of the human population hope.  But seeing Mango in the non-existent flesh, she begins to have second thoughts.

"Have you ever been to Nevada?" she asks.

"Three times.  Once for a giant underground worm infestation, another to wipe out a three thousand strong horde of alpha sixes, and a third time for exterminating a vampire cult."

"I remember that," Bernie pipes up.  Because of the excessive amount of radiation he gives off, he is the perfect weapon against vampires.  The Vampire Slaying League have more than once voiced their disapproval of Bernie stealing their jobs.

"And here I thought the infamous cyborg zombie was just a bedtime story," she says.  She gives him another look up and down.  "I can respect a fellow professional zombie exterminator."

"Professional?  You're nothing but an amateur," Mango snorts.

"Besides, I think you are all forgetting the TRUE hero!" Roswell screeches loudly.   He performs a back flip off Mango's shoulder, and lands on the ground, throwing his hands high in the air.  "ME!  ROSWELL!  The unstoppable, the unkillable, the sexy alien from outer space!"

"Shut yer little gob!" Mango growls, but Shia laughs at the tiny alien's little performance.

"Roswell, huh?  The Roswell incident, I presume?" she asks, a smirk on her face and her hands on her hips.

"The very one and same!" Roswell says proudly.  He leaps off the ground and lands smoothly on her shoulder, slicking back his non-existent hair.  "So what do you say, beautiful? How 'bout we ditch these losers and go get some drinks?"

"Roswell, you are not--!" Bernie protests, but Roswell cuts him off.

"Silence, you fool!  Can't you see I'm trying to woo this fair maiden?" he cries.  He turns back to Shia.  "So do you like karaoke?"

"I love it," Shia says, still laughing.

"Favorite song?"

"Anything that gets you dancing."

"Ah!  A challenge!"  Roswell leaps off her shoulder, and strikes a pose as he lands.  "Let's get some music playing!" He starts to snap his fingers, and then, he begins to sing.

"Ya don't know what you're messin' with.
You got no idea!
You don't know what you're lookin' at
When you're lookin' here!
Ya don't know what you're up against,
No, no way, no how!
You don't know what you're messin' with,
But I'm gonna tell you now!"

"He isn't . . ." Bernie moans, placing a hand on his forehead.

"He is," Mango grumbles.

"Get this straight!
I'm just a mean green mother from outer space and I'm bad!
I'm just a mean green mother from outer space
And it looks like you been had!
I'm just a mean green mother from outer space,
So get off my back 'n get out my face,
'Cause I'm mean and green and I am bad!"

Shia starts laughing harder, but abruptly she turns serious, and snaps her fingers along with the beat.  Soon enough, she joins in singing.

"Wanna save your skin, boy?
You wanna save your hide?
You wanna see tomorrow?
You better step aside
Better take a tip, boy
Want some good advice?
You better take it easy,
'Cause you're walkin' on thin ice!"

"Oooh, you're good!" Roswell remarks.
"Are you kidding? I love 'Little Shop of Horrors!'" Shia says in between the verses.  Then, the two of them began to sing in unison.

"Ya don't know what you're dealin' with!
No, you never did!
Ya don't know what you're lookin' at,
But that's tough titty, kid!
The lion don't sleep tonight,
And if you pull his tail, he roars
Ya say, 'That ain't fair?' Ya say, 'That ain't nice?'
Ya know what I say?
'Up yours!'"

Roswell pauses for just a moment, turning back to Dr. Nirad.  "Oh!  Oh!  Boss!  Boss!  Can we keep her?!  Pleeeeeeeeaaaaase can we keep her?!"  He jumps on top of Shia's head.  "I promise I'll take good care of her!  I'll feed her and walk her and I'll make sure she's house-trained!"

"For the love of Pete!  She's a woman, not a dog!" Bernie cries out.  "Ma'am, please excuse him he has no idea what he's talking about—"

Shia giggles at Bernie, shaking her head.  "Aw, I don't mind.  In fact, I think he's absolutely adorable!"  She picks Roswell off the top of her head, holding the tiny skeleton in her hands.  "Aren't you just the cutest zombie I've ever seen?"

"HAHAHAHA!  She thinks I'm sexy!" Roswell screeches in triumph.

Bernie slaps a hand right across his face.  "Why?  Why do all the girls like him?"

"That's enough you two," Dr. Nirad pipes up.  His voice is cool and emotionless, and he shows no sign of hostility or hospitality towards the woman.  "But I think it would be beneficial to the both of us if we were to keep in contact with one another."

"Is that so?" Shia muses.

"Your expertise on plant monsters and fungi zombies is unprecedented.  If another case arises, the ZED could surely use your help in containing the outbreak."

"From what I hear, the pay's pretty shitty," Shia counters.

Mango nods.  "It is."

She shrugs.  "Then again, when is it not?"

"Fair point."

Shia doesn't respond immediately.  Instead, she steps closer to the crazed engineer, slowly circling around him, hands behind her back and a clever smirk stretched across her lips.

"Must be kinda lonely living with three dudes," she remarks suddenly.

"Comes with the job," Dr. Nirad responds without hesitation.

"Well I'll tell you what."  She stops just in front of him, leaning ever so close to his face.  "You want a break, or some real fun, just give me a call."  She then takes out a small card from the pocket in her skirt, and slips it into one of Dr. Nirad's lab coat pockets.

"Ma'am, if you are attempting to have sexual intercourse with me, I should let you know I am a very busy man."  He says this without any sign of embarrassment or shame, as if this was just another casual conversation topic.  Mango's and Bernie's jaws hit the floor.

Shia is taken aback by Nirad's unusual straight-forwardness, but quickly recovers.  "You have my number.  Let me know if you find a break."

"I must warn you; that may be a while."

"I can wait."  With a salute, Shia spins on her heels, and walks off.  "Catch you later, boys."

It's a solid three minutes before anyone speaks.

"Did . . . did that woman just bloody hit on you?" Mango sputters.

"If by 'hit on me' you mean flirt, yes, that seems to be the case," Dr. Nirad says.  He turns away and casually saunters back to the van.  The three zombies are quick to catch up with him.

"And you're ok with that?!" Mango persists.

"Mango, she is a woman who undoubtly has very little contact with other humans, given the low populous of the area.  I have no intentions to have sex with her, but she could be a valuable ally one day."

In the meantime, Bernie is trailing behind a bit, looking rather sullen.  "They always go for Roswell.  Why must they always go for the crazy, sadistic, eyeball-ripping heartless little slasher alien?"

"It's because I am sexy!  You heard it yourself!" Roswell yells out proudly.

"You are the zombie equivalent of one of those annoying little Chihuahuas and that is the only reason anyone puts up with you!"  Mango roars.

"Oh!  So you admit even YOU think I'm cute!"

Mango sputters angrily, his fists shaking in rage.  "No--what--bloody!  I said no such thing!"

"Oh yes you did!"

Mango makes a wild grab for Roswell, but he just misses.  Roswell sprints away, cackling madly, with Mango hot on his heels.

"I am going to flush you down the sewers and I hope to bloody hell an alligator eats you!" Mango roars.

"Nice to know things haven't changed in the slightest." Dr. Nirad remarks coolly.