Road Rage

E05: Zombie Office Series, "Road Rage"

Content Rating: 18+

Jimothy Dyck was in the middle of a monologue when he was rudely interrupted.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being gaslit every waking minute of every single day? Obviously… NOT!”

“I recently found out my coping mechanisms aren’t working. Turns out casual alcoholism isn’t a thing.”

“The property management company is jacking up my rent. I cried in the shower for half an hour–”  

Jimothy pushed up his dark-rimmed glasses – held together with a strip of white tape – and stared intensely at the cashier as he ranted about his life.  

“Sir… this is a Wendy’s.”

“Oh! Uh…” Jimothy stammered. “Does the hamburger meal come with fries?”

The teenager looked at Jimothy with disdain and thought, “Everything comes with fries you stupid fucking boomer idiot.”

Jimothy finally made up his mind and ordered a plain hamburger with fries and a Coke. He handed the cashier an expired coupon, paid in change, and pooped in the bathroom on his way out.

The morning commute is a traffic jam nightmare. Every day is a race to survive another day at the office. Then, come five-o’clock, just in time for the afternoon rush hour – it’s Thunderdome!

“Ok. Stay focused.” Jimothy let out a shaky breath in traffic. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

But it was impossible for Jimothy to concentrate with all those honking cars, their rumbling engines belching acrid-smelling diesel exhaust pollution into the dizzying heat steaming off Hollywood Freeway.

“Urgh!” Jimothy was getting more and more impatient the longer he just sat there, waiting. “What the hell is taking so long!?! I just want to fucking die already – goddammit!”

The three-mile-long traffic jam was caused by a congested lane closure up ahead. Jimothy was dying to move forward with his life, but it felt like he was going nowhere fast – stuck in 85-degree heat.

Beads of sweat pearled off Jimothy’s face as he fumbled with the air conditioner, burning with rage. The A/C wasn’t working, so he punched it as hard as he could. That didn’t work either, so Jimothy gripped the steering wheel, reeled forward, and yelled at God.

“Where are you!?!” Jimothy screamed.

The silence from God was deafening.

“That’s it!”

Jimothy gave in to his intrusive thoughts and got out of his car. He slammed the door shut and started walking. Nothing Jimothy did seemed to work. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get his life together.   

Jimothy didn’t even look back as he walked away – until he remembered he left his headphones in the car.

“I’ll wander the Earth.” Jimothy decided. “Meet people and give unsolicited advice to strangers.”

Jimothy started walking toward the ocean. He liked to sit by the pier and think – that was before the beach was mined. L.A. was so different now. Everything changed after the zombies came. Even the zombies had headshots.

Jimothy got about half a block when he saw a zombie on the side of the road eating the face off a corpse.

“Goddammit, Jerry!” Jimothy snapped.

Jimothy had been working overtime at the office, covering for Jerry, who hadn’t been seen since Monday.

It was Jerry’s job to do the PowerPoint presentations – and now it was Jimothy’s problem.

“You selfish piece of shit!”

Jimothy pulled out his shotgun and fumed at Jerry.

“It must be nice – huh!?! Don’t have to go to a job – you lazy fuck!”

Jerry the zombie blinked blankly at Jimothy with absolutely no self-awareness whatsoever in his vacant, undead eyes.

Jimothy pointed the shotgun at Jerry’s face.

“Hang in there!”

Jerry moaned.

KA-BOOM!

“Idiot!”

Jimothy stormed back to his car, feeling smug, but also kind of like a dick – until his phone rang…

Ring-a-dingy-ding-dong!

It was his employer.

“Hi! This is Stereo Mike.” Jimothy picked up the phone, playing it cool.  

The smoky voice on the other end replied, “I’ve got a job – you interested?”

“How much?”

“Ten grand.”

“I’m retired.” Jimothy lied, playing hardball. He desperately needed the money. Plan B was to beg.

“Screw you, Jimothy!” Cheryl wasn’t taking any of Jimothy’s bullshit today. “Get your ass to 7869 Fairfield Drive.”

“Okay!” Jimothy relented. “What’s the job?”

“Some lady up in Hollywood Hills needs a story to go away.”

“This is a job for The Silencer.”

“Don’t forget to hand in your travel expenses. This is a gentle reminder.”

Jimothy hung up the phone and pumped his fist.

“Yesss!” Jimothy cranked up the tunes and reclined back in his seat just as there was a break in stop-and-go traffic. “I’m back, baby!”

All of Jimothy’s fear, uncertainty, and doubt melted away as he ascended into Hollywood Hills – on a job.

     “I’m careful about what I put into my mouth – but I don’t care what comes out of it!”

     “Some of you came for trivia night and are very confused right now.”

     “I have mommy issues and daddy issues. They’re both getting sick of my shit!”