“I’m scared, Bert,” Francis said.
“We’re fine, Francis,” Bert replied.
“It doesn’t feel fine,” Francis said nailing a plank across the doorway.
“Listen,” Bert responded while arranging holy items on a hastily built altar. “We’ve got all our bases covered.”
“It’s a full moon on Halloween!” Francis pulled a nail out from between his lips. “Who knows what 2020 is going to throw at us!?”
“Let’s go over the caches again,” Bert said. “We’ve got a shotgun and a crowbar in that corner for zombies. We’ve got a silver knife and Glock with silver bullets in the cupboard over there. Those should also work on vampires, but we’ve got a cross and a stake made out of an old baseball bat on that shelf. We’ve got relics and a salt circle as a catchall for demons, ghosts, and various specters. I’ve got three cans of wasp spray for killer insects. We are in a city of 150,000 people, which means it is too small for big alien attacks and too big for small alien attacks.”
“I guess,” Francis said. He sat down and turned the TV’s input to the security camera feed. “I think I see something.”
“What is it? What should I get ready?”
“Oh,” Francis said, relieved. “It’s just a bunch of skeletons.”
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“How the fuck do you kill a skeleton?” Bert asked. “There’s no brain to destroy. You dismember it, it pops back together like Ikea furniture.”
“Do we become skeletons if they bite us?”