INT. AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE. NIGHT
GLEN: So that’s the plan – I’ll sneak around the back and make a bit of a ruckus to distract the biters, then you come around from the other side and grab the big box of food, got it?
RICK GRIMES: Sure thing, skip. Lets – AGH! ARRGGH! Something’s biting me!
GLEN: It’s fine, your shirt just got caught on the sharp edge of a wooden crate
RICK GRIMES: No, I’ve been infected! Quick, hack off my arm before I become a zombie!
GLEN: No, you’re going to be – oh, alright then.