“What the hell are you watchin’ Richie?”

“It’s a zombie film! I don’t know which one but I’ve never seen it before— Oh! They’re about to eat him!” Richie’s dad gazed on in what was half horror, half bewilderment. He chucked the paper onto his armchair and carefully sat down, while his son was hypnotized by blood and guts.

“Aren’t you a little… Old for this kind of stuff? I mean they’re all actors, none of it’s real!”

“Neither’s wrestling but you watch that every Saturday!” Richie winced as he heard his father inhaling through his nose.

“That’s different. You don’t learn anything from this. Least wrestling actually looks real… Mostly.” Richie pulled himself up from the floor to sit up and face his dad, with the sort of smile that only stays with you when you’re that age.

“Come on dad, think of it this way. If there’s a zombie outbreak one day I’ll know exactly what to do!” With that, he went back to watching the gore-fest. Richie’s father guffawed, while trying to remember where he left his gun.