Fried Green Zombies at the Gristle Stop Café

In which we discuss giant tongues far more often than we should… Image by Author, created in AI. Click here to read this story from the beginning… Tupper Ware turned her attention from her phone to her friend Plexi Glass, who was semi-consoling her undead husband, Tinted, as they crouched on opposite sides of the iron bars of a wine cellar/impromptu prison. “I’m on hold right now while they go get Irony Skillet, who has apparently changed her name to The Hexorcist. I guess I should pay more attention to her Facebook feed.” Plexi smirked. “That sounds like someone who is having a bit of an identity crisis. Are you sure you trust this person?” Tupper nodded. “Oh, I trust her with my life. Literally. We rented a castle in Granada one summer and I let her dangle me over the side of the guard tower. We did it all the time and she only dropped me once.” Plexi’s eyes widened. “I think I better understand why you drink incessantly.” Tupper shook her head. “You don’t know me at all. And stop…