Walk Like the Dead

Finally, Halloween.  Here at the family pirate ship, there's a lot of excitement going on.  Mini-P is itching to put on her vampire costume, get out there and terrorize the neighborhood in the interest of getting a bagful of Mini-Snickers bars.  I'm all set to inspect said Snickers, deem them "unfit for child consumption," and retreat with them to my office.

In case it wasn't completely clear in Thursday's post, SaucyWench is really ready to put this whole season to bed.  She does the holiday up right for Mini-P and me, but by end of October, she's a bit more, uh, verbal about how she feels about Halloween.  She's just not a fan.  For her, October apparently lasts six months.  I've resigned myself to the fact that I'll never convince her to actually dress up in a matching costume with me (Frankenstein and his Bride?  Batman and Catwoman?  Bacon and Egg?  Dangling Participle and its Misappropriated Noun?  No?)

October's always a great time of year for late night TV.  Networks usher out all of the older movies that make my skin crawl: The Shining.  Carrie.  The original Halloween.  It's gruesome, nostalgic fun -- but Saucy refuses to watch any of them with me.  Which is sort of a big problem; because as much as I love those flicks, I don't want to watch them by myself.  (Wuss.)

In particular, she refuses to watch zombie movies.  There's something about the End of Days premise inherent to the genre that freaks her out.  I get it.  I do.  I just get off on it.

I had to watch the original 1968 Night of the Living Dead recently for our Top Zombie Flicks list on Culture Brats, and asked Saucy to watch it with me.

"No," she said firmly.
"Oh, come on.  1968.  How scary could it be?"
"No no no no no no.  You're on your own, bucko."
"But it's so old, and it's in black and white.  It's totally cheesy, it's funny; like when the first zombie sort of staggers up and--"
"No no no no no no no no la la la la la la la I can't hear you I can't hear you OHHH SAY CAN YOU SEE, BY THE DAWN'S EARLY--"
"Ok, ok.  Fine.  Geez."

So I had to watch it alone.  Dammit.  Freaked me all the hell out, I didn't sleep well, and the next day Saucy just gave me the I Told You So look.

"At least tell me you're going to watch The Walking Dead with me," I said.  (This is the new series on AMC premiering tonight.  Looks completely awesome.  And disturbing.  I'm psyched.  And sort of scared.)

"We'll see," she said vaguely.

We'll see?  We'll see??  You know what?  That's fine, Wife.  I'll remember this abandonment when the Zombiepocalypse comes.  Good luck defending yourself when our daughter is chasing you through the house trying to gnaw off your arm.  Don't come crying to me.

Happy Halloween, everyone.  Have a fun, safe night.  And remember: you need to actually crush the skull or sever the head to keep zombies down.  Anything less and they'll pop right back up again like toast.  Don't half-ass the job.

P.S.  Here's a behind-the-scenes clip from The Walking Dead.  Turns out walking like the dead takes training.