Twenty-One Zooms, But One Will Do

“Buzz–”

“For the love of God, man.”

“–I’d like to bring the conversation back to a previous subject.”

“Is it chuds?”

“It is.”

“Can’t we talk about space, Bob?”

“We’ll have time after the chud thing. Y’know what the ‘C’ stands for, right?”

“I actually don’t.”

“Cannibalistic. Not cannibals. Cannibalistic. Their behavior was akin to, but not exactly like, cannibalism. That, uh, kinda freaks me out the worst. It’s the not-knowing.”

“I can see where that would be spooky.”

“I’ve been checking for chuds since I saw the picture originally. Whenever I come back into the house, I immediately check all the closets and under the beds. They’re not like zombies. Zombies moan and bump into stuff. You can hear ’em coming. Chuds? Silent, but deadly. Folks say that about farts, but farts aren’t actually deadly. That is, uh, hyperbole. Chuds’ll gut ya, though.”

“Bob.”

“Coronavirus is nothing compared to a chud.”

“Bob.”

“Y’know, I’m sure there’s some sort of app that would let us watch the film together. I own it on VHS, laser disc, Blu-ray, and I also have it memorized so I could just act it all out for you.”

…

“Please let’s talk about something else.”

“Do you want to stop discussing the film, C.H.U.D., or the morlockian creatures known as chuds?”

“Both. All. I wanna stop talking about everything…did you hear that?”

“The screaming? Yeah.”

“My connection’s getting little cock-eye. Lemme see if I can–”

SHWIZZLEfeeeeeeeeeeTHOOP!

“I WILL EAT YOUR COCK, YOU BEARDED SHIT, AND PISS IN THE EMPTY HOLE!”

“Billy?”

“BILLY IS MY FRIEND, BUT HE IS FILTH! HE IS THE SCUM OF MONGREL FEET, AND I WILL ONE DAY DRIVE A BUS INTO HIS FACE!”

“Did he send you?”

“NO ONE SENDS KLAUS KINSKI ANYWHERE! YOUR MOTHER WAS A DRUNKEN GOAT, AND YOUR FATHER SUPPED ONLY ON STRANGER-COCK!”

“Oh, no. My folks were real decent folks. Solid California Republicans.”

“It’s no fun yelling at you.”

“Never stopped Phil.”