by Tom Dillon
At first, none of us took it seriously when management announced that they were going to be replacing us with zombies. We all thought it was some sort of sick joke. Sure, we knew they wanted to replace us, but with technology or something, not zombies. And then we met Bob.
You see, Bob was a zombie. Not like in the movies, though. Sure, he ate brains, shambled, and did the typical zombie stuff, but he also worked at S-Mart. We never figured out how, but it worked. When he was on the clock, open to close, seven days a week, he wouldn’t so much as drool on you.
At first, Bob scared the hell out of us. The obvious conclusion was that the company was planning to use Bob to turn the lot of us into a shambling, decomposing army of retail employees who didn’t require breaks or health insurance. Rumors were even started to the effect that we would eventually be used to attack competitors. Not a pretty picture, really.
Those fears proved to be unfounded, however, as a more chilling truth sank in. Bob and the other zombies that joined him on the selling floor were simply better employees than us. They worked longer, harder, and didn’t complain about lack of decent pay or benefits. In a rational world, it would be fantastic, think of all the lives that are sucked dry by menial jobs. As things are, however, this wasn’t the case, we needed these pointless, soul-crushing jobs.
There was some talk of actually becoming decent employees, taking pride in our work. Fortunately, it didn’t get far. After all, compared to upper management, Bob and his fellow undead were downright sympathetic by comparison, and even if that weren’t true, Bob was better liked than the vast majority of upper management. All of which meant that simply working harder was not an option. Faced with this bleak situation, what choice was there?
We formed a union. All of us, even Bob. When presented with the idea of being able to eat the annoying customers, Bob joined enthusiastically, for a zombie, that is.
You probably wonder how it went.
Well, you never want to mess with a zombie on a picket line, it gets ugly.