EXT. A GRAVEYARD. DAY
RICK GRIMES: Lori, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when all the zombies came, and now I’m here and you’re in this grave, dead.
CARL: Hi, dad. What you doing?
RICK GRIMES: Oh, hello son. I was just talking to your mother, and putting some flowers on her grave.
CARL: Uh, dad. What are you talking about? Mom’s not dead.
RICK GRIMES: Yes she is, remember? You were there.
CARL: No, that was some other lady. Look, mom’s over there.
RICK GRIMES: Huh? Where? Where!
CARL: Ha ha! Made you look!
INT. A SLAUGHTERHOUSE. DAY
A group of cannibals have tied up our heroes and are about to cut their throats.
GARETH: Any last words before, heh heh, dinner?
OLD MAN HERSHEL: Our father, who art in heaven…
GARETH: Oh please, ‘your God’ can’t help you now. Anyone else?
RED SHIRT: Please, I don’t want to die!
GARETH: How uninspiring – slice this guy’s throat already.
In a twelve minute scene, the Red Shirt is skinned alive, has his throat cut, is chopped into pieces, then Gareth dances the Macarena wearing Red Shirt’s skin.
RICK GRIMES: I promise I’m going to kill you.
GARETH: Oh really? If this guy’s God can’t kill me, how do you expect to?
A sudden THUNDERBOLT shoots from the SKY and torches GARETH and the other baddies. They are now dead.
OLD MAN HERSHEL: For ever and ever. Amen.
RICK GRIMES: Oh Lord, why hast thou forsaken me!
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.
EXT. A FIELD INSIDE A PRISON. DAY
OLD MAN HERSHEL: Now listen up, everyone. The Lord has felt it necessary to wreak this plague upon us to shame us for our iniquities, but while we still live we need to prepare for the fut- Rick, what on Earth are you doing?
RICK GRIMES: Handstands.
OLD MAN HERSHEL: Han- why are you doing handstands? We’re having a serious discussion about farming, and irrigation, and such.
RICK GRIMES: Yeah I know but, handstands are much more fun. Look – weeeeee!
OLD MAN HERSHEL: Rick, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever – it does look kinda neat though. Let me try. Weeeeeee!
EXT. A CREEPY WOOD. DAY
RICK GRIMES: Sigh. Another awful day in the zombie apocalypse. I wonder if anything interesting will happen today
MICHONNE: Stop right there, white boy, befo I chop off yo head!
RICK GRIMES: Oh, hello. Pleasant day we’re having, isn’t it.
MICHONNE: Da fuq you talkin’ bout? Can’t you see I got this big ass sword and these two jawless biters tied to me?
RICK GRIMES: Yes ma’am, you said it! Another glorious day in the zombie apocalypse. (Singing) ‘Sunshine, lollipops, and – zombies – everything that’s do-bee-do-bee-la-dee-da-dee-bee together!
MICHONNE: Dis bitch be cray…
INT. A HOSPITAL WARD. DAY
RICK GRIMES (Waking up and yawning): Ahh, nothing like a nap to sooth those aching wounds. Wait a second, aching wounds? Where am I?
Shuffling sounds and moans come from outside the room
RICK GRIMES: Heh- hello? Is there anyone out there?
A zombie dressed in a police uniform shambles into the room
ZOMBIE SHANE: Rrrriiiiik!
RICK GRIMES: Oh no! It’s the Zombie Apocalypse!
ZOMBIE SHANE: Rrriiiiiik… iiwsssffffkkkknng Loorrrreeeeeee!
RICK GRIMES: What’s that? Little Coral is trapped down a well? Lets move!