Zombie Breath: A Love Story

For this story it is important to know my husband Mike:

  1. Owns about 40 different personal hygiene products that produce 40 different pleasant smells.
  2. Is a hypochondriac convinced he’s dying at least once a day.
  3. Hates it when I call him “dude.”

All of which added up to a VERY enjoyable day for me when he suffered a hideous case of bad breath. 

Zombie Breath: A Love Story

A Reality Show One Act Play

We open on a husband and wife working in their home office… the wife makes a face like she just smelled Ashton Kutcher’s acting career.

Inside joke – he called me the “bees knees” to make fun of the fact I use archaic terms, like calling the refrigerator the “ice box.” When these AquaNotes* appeared in the shower he also remarked: “We’re together 24/7 and now we leave each other notes in the shower?” To which I replied: “YES!”

me: Dude. You STINK.

Mike: Did you just call me “dude?”

me: No.

Mike:  I do not stink. What are you talking about?

me:  The whole room stinks. You’ve made the whole room stink.

Mike:  I do not stink. You stink.

me: The dog just walked by and he was wearing a little gas mask. It was sad and a little scary.

Mike: Shut up.

me: The house plants all just died.

Mike: SHUT UP! How? Smell me. (leans toward me)

me: *sniff* Not your arm… *sniff* Not your neck. Breathe on me.

Mike: (breathes)

me: Holy hell. You STINK. You’re rotting from the inside. MIKE, THE SMELL CAME FROM INSIDE YOUR BELLY! GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!

Mike: That made no sense.

me: Like the horror movies where the call comes from inside the house—

Mike: I know what you MEANT. It’s just stupid.

me: Maybe you’re a zombie, purifying from the inside. Has anyone sketchy bitten you lately?

Mike: You’re SUCH a nerd. *sigh* What does it smell like?

me: Like garlic and gin… with a touch of death.

Mike: I don’t even drink gin!

me: Apparently, when zombies drink red wine, it turns into gin. Google it.

Mike: … …  I’m dying.  I knew it.

me: You’re not dying. Possibly already dead, but not dying. What have you been eating?

Mike: Shit. You know what? Last night I made a salad dressing and dumped a bunch of garlic powder—

me: (covering nose) Could you make this story a little shorter?

Mike: What?

me: Or turn your head while you’re telling it?  Can I spritz a little of my Prada “Candy” in your mouth?

Mike: What the hell! We can’t go out for lunch if I STINK that bad!

me: We can sit outside in the breeze. People will be like *sniff sniff* WHAT IS THAT SMELL?? but by the time they start to zero in on you, the breeze will confuse them and they’ll think a sea gull just dropped a dead crab nearby.

Mike: This SUCKS.

me: The fact you’re a zombie, purifying from the inside? Or the fact that now I have to chop of your head to kill you? Because my original plan had always been slow-acting poison, which would be less messy, but that doesn’t work on zombies.

Mike: THE FACT THAT I STINK. I’m going to brush my teeth again. Hold on.

(he leaves, I hear gargling, he returns)

Mike: How about now? (breathes on me) What’s it smell like?

me:  Mint… and death. Minty Death.

Mike: This is horrible.

me: What did the gold miner say when he found the gold?

Mike: *

me: U REEK AH!

 

Aaaaaaand SCENE.

 

* Special thanks to AquaNotes (waterproof notepaper that suction cups to the wall in the shower) which I found on Twitter (@ShowerThinker) and immediate had to order. I am very much a “shower thinker” – a phrase they use in their marketing. Bonus – you can trade notes with your mate, whom I imagine also showers (assuming you’re not a couple of dirty hippies).

This is not a paid endorsement for AquaNotes or The League for Washing Dirty Hippies (LWDH).