Golden Girls: The Undead in Miami

Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own the Golden Girls, as a whole, or individually, although I would love to have one of my own some day. This piece is written sheerly out of my immense love and adoration for them, and is in no way meant to infringe on copywritten material. Thank you.
Joslyn ❤

Golden Girls: The Undead in Miami

“Oh, I could never be one of those things.  I’m faaar too pretty,” Blanche said, demurely holding a hammer.

“We have hordes of those things with the looks and IQ of my ex-husband Stan surrounding Miami and all you can think about is your looks?  Come on, Blanche!  Why don’t you help me board up these windows?”

Because, Dorothy, you’re the strong one.  I’m built for looks, while you’re built for brawn.  Besides, if we survive the night, I have a date tomorrow evening as long as he doesn’t become one of those hideous creatures.  I couldn’t allow myself to be seen with one of those things in public; what would people think?”

“That you’ve run out of the living and have to slut around with the living dead?  Now come and help me with these windows!”

“Well, the other rooms are boarded up,” Rose said as she entered the kitchen.  “It should hold up for the night.  Hopefully by then, help will be on the way to rescue us!”

Just then Sophia walked in.  “Rescue us?  Please.  Back in Sicily, it was every man for himself!”  She walked over to one of the cabinets, pulled out several pots and pans and finally yelled, “A-ha!”

Dorothy stopped hammering for a moment.  “What is it, Ma?”

“This is my emergency weapon stash.”  Sophia took out a large box full of guns and ammunition.

Rose stared wide-eyed.  “Sophia, you know how to shoot a gun?”

“No, Rose, she’s just going to whack them to death with a pistol,” Dorothy responded with her characteristic sarcasm.

“Heeeyyy, I was born in Sicily, and when ya grow up in Sicily, you learn how to use a gun before you learn to walk,” Sophia added.

“Ohhh, I know what you mean.  Back in Saint Olaf, you don’t grow up without learning to use a knife!”

“I never knew Saint Olaf was such a dangerous place to live,” said Blanche puzzled.  “The way you talked, I always pictured it full of cows and milk and cheese.  I never knew there were knife-wielding street-urchins just roaming about.”

“Oh, no, Saint Olaf didn’t have much crime at all.  But you can’t learn to sculpt a cheese sculpture without a knife.  It was an old Saint Olaf pastime.”

Dorothy finished boarding up the window.  “There!  It’s all taken care of.  No thanks to Miss I-Don’t-Want-To-Break-A-Nail.  In case we need more rations, I can run to the store.  I’m just hoping this whole thing will pass before we run out of food!”

“Oh, no, I just couldn’t let you do that.”

“Wow, Blanche.  I’m impressed.  You’re actually worried about me.”

“Of course I am!  If those FBI people see you out there, they might just think you’re one of the undead.  At the very least I let me give you a makeover before you go.  Those terrible bags under your eyes just scream ‘I’m a zombie!’”

“Yeah,” Sophia agreed.  “Maybe with Blanche’s help, you can catch a man.  I bet those zombies have seen more recent action than you have, and some of them have been dead for centuries!”

Rose interjected.  “Now is not the time to insult Dorothy.  Although, I have to agree with you guys.  She is starting to look a little undead.”

The night was a long one.  The radio said it would be best to turn out the lights and to keep the noise level down, so as not to attract the things.  Thank goodness Blanche’s room was virtually sound-proof, so they spent the night in there.  At some point the power went out, so they just sat there chatting.  Rose reminisced about Saint Olaf.  Sophia talked about Sicily.  Dorothy talked about her job as a substitute teacher, and Blanche talked about dates past and those that she hoped for in the future.  If there would even be a future for them.

It was late when they fell asleep, but no one could be sure of the time.  But when Dorothy and Blanche awoke to the sounds of guttural moans and gunshots, they were terrified when they realized that Sophia and Rose were missing.

“Ma!  Ma!  Are you okay?”  Dorothy ran to the bathroom where she had heard the sounds emanating.

“Get back, Pussycat!  We’ll handle this!”

Rose ran to the door and locked Dorothy out.  Dorothy had no choice but to join Blanche and worry.

“There’s no way those two can ward off those…those…things!  Ma is way too frail, and Rose is…well, she’s Rose!”

“Now, Dorothy, I can assure you that your mother can take care of herself and with that blank stare Rose always has on her face, those zombies will just think she’s one of them.”

Dorothy looked rather worried and buried her face in her hand.  Blanche walked over to her and put her arms around her in an attempt to console her.

“You know, I’m just as worried as you are.  But if they told us to stay back, we have to trust them.  We have to hope for the best.”  Blanche tried to be as positive as possible, but Dorothy was skeptical.  “Now, Dorothy, I’m sure that we’ll be rescued soon, I just know it in my heart.  And you have to believe that.  You have to believe that tomorrow, the four of us will step out onto the lanai with the sun shining on our faces as we share some laughs, and maybe have a couple of drinks before we all go out on our dates.  And when we get home, we’ll talk about how our dates turned out.  And everything that happened in between.  You just have to believe that, Dorothy.  And if it doesn’t happen tomorrow, you have to believe it will happen the next day.  Or the next.  Or the next.  But we can never give up that hope.”

“You’re right, Blanche.  You’re right.  Tomorrow, we’ll all set out to go on some midnight rendezvous with a handsome, eligible bachelor.  And then we’ll tell each other all about it.”

“Oh, when I was talking about the dating part, I meant Sophia, Rose and I would probably bring home our stories for you to listen to.  I know it’s rare that you break your dates with Alex Trebec.”

Dorothy fixed her eyes on Blanche.  “You know, for a minute there you had me feeling better.  Now you’re making me wonder if I should stay here and hope things will go back to normal, which would consist of late nights watching reruns of Jeopardy, or if it would be more interesting to go out there and live as a zombie.  But I think you’re right.  We just have to hope for the best.  God, I’m worried about Ma and Rose!”

Suddenly Rose and Sophia walked in, spattered with blood and smiling.  The only light in the room was coming from a flashlight, but it was a bright one.  Blanche liked to use that one as a spotlight sometimes.

“Well, Pussycat.  You don’t have to worry about a thing anymore.  It’s all been taken care of.”

“You mean, those things are gone?”  Dorothy got up and hugged her mother and Rose, and then Blanche joined them.

“Yep.  And it was a piece of cake!  Especially with Rose by my side.  You should’ve seen us!  We were incredible!”

“I can’t believe you took care of it all by yourselves.  You’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you both!  You had me worried sick!”

“Please, Dorothy.  Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?  Picture it.  Sicily.  1938.  Half of my deceased friends and family rose from their graves under some mysterious Italian curse.  Pretty soon, the living were being turned into zombies and coating everyone’s brains in marinara sauce.  That’s one big difference between Italian zombies; you had time for them to cook the sauce to perfection before they started feasting on people.  These zombies don’t seem to care how their food looks, let alone how it tastes!  They tried to eat Rose, for goodness sake!”

“So then what happened?” Blanche asked.

“Well, with most of the village joining the other side, someone had to take care of it.  Everyone locked their doors and hid inside their houses.  Everyone except one brave young girl, who was the only one daring enough to take care of it.  And that young girl’s name was Sophia.”

“Wow, Sophia!” Rose gasped.  “She had the same name as you?”

“Rose, I gained so much respect for you after seeing you in battle tonight.  You were amazing.  Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.  We were a real team.”

“Thanks, Sophia.  I feel the same way.”

“But after that question, I realize what made you such a great warrior against those rotting yutzes.”

“What’s that?” Rose smiled.

“NO BRAINS!”

Rose just ignored her as usual.  “Well, you know I had my own little run-in with a Z-war back in Saint Olaf.  Farmer Bergensmergen’s chickens turned into zombies.  When we finally realized what was happening, Farmer Bergensmergen had eaten one of the chickens and had already infected at least twenty people.  We had to shoot them all in the head, and we’re still not sure we got them all.  It became known as the Saint Olaf Zombie Hunt.  Before long, we were accusing anyone with that blank, mindless stare of being a zombie.  The ultimate test was asking a hard math question: What’s the square root of nine?  Well, some time later we realized that no one in Saint Olaf’s history had ever gotten that question right on the math tests, so we figured we were either all zombies, or just really really bad at math.”

All at once, the lights came on and they walked into the kitchen to get to the radio, which was already switched to the “ON” position.  “We’re glad to report that the situation in Miami has ended, and we hope that it didn’t spread to other areas of Florida, or anywhere else for that matter.  But the situation in Miami does appear to have been resolved.”

After hearing the news that the situation was under control, Dorothy turned the radio off.  “I say we go celebrate with some cheesecake, now that those things are gone,” she said.

“Uh-oh.  Looks like the only one of us who didn’t make it was the cheesecake,” said Sophia as she opened the fridge.  “That power outage really did a number on it.”

“Good news, girls; I stored one in an ice chest just in case we decided to have a little celebration,” said Blanche.

The faintest light of morning began to peek through the small gaps in the boarded windows.

Dorothy got up.  “I’ll get the plates.”

“I’ll get the cheesecake,” followed Blanche.  “And the silverware.”

“And Rose and I will just sit back and relax.  While you two were asleep, we were busy taking care of zombies.  Every last one of ‘em.  Miami is now safe, thanks to us!”

Just then, the phone rang.  Blanche answered and told Dorothy that it was her ex-husband calling to make sure that they were okay.  Dorothy told her to tell him that she was busy.  “We spoke too soon.  Ya must have missed one, Ma.”

Advertisements


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s