Zombie Fallout 5: Alive in a Dead World (32 page)

“I saw you working on Gert’s door two days
ago,” she said to Paul.

“Shit,” Paul answered her. “But that was two
days ago, if you knew, and we’re still at school.”

“Relax! I can’t stand him either. He asked me
on a date on the first day of school and when I told him no, he
wrote me up the next day for having a candle in my room. Didn’t
matter to him that it wasn’t even lit.” Debbie handed Mike two
brownies.

“I don’t have enough for two,” Mike told her,
brushing the dust off his wallet.

“They’re on me,” she said, flashing another
smile.

“Sweet, thanks,” Mike told her, doing his
best to smile back, but the munchies had taken a serious hold on
his social skills and all he could do was concentrate on the
treat.

“What do you want?” Paul asked
cautiously.

“Nothing much,” Debbie answered
coquettishly.

“Huh?” Mike asked, looking up, half a brownie
in his mouth, chocolate on his cheek.

“You don’t get out much,” Debbie said,
smiling. She wiped his cheek with a wet towel she had behind the
counter.

“She wants in,” Paul said.

“In what?” Mike asked.

“Dude, get your face out of the brownie.”

“Sorry, man, I’m pretty hungry.”

“We just had dinner.”

“Yeah, but that was before.”

“Before what?” Debbie asked.

“Ah nothing,” Paul told her evasively. “Mike,
Debbie here thinks we are up to something with Gert.”

“No,” Mike said, looking around. “I don’t
know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want to play hardball, but I saw
Paul trying to get into Gert’s room the night we all listened to a
very loud rendition of ‘Running with the Devil’.”

“It’s ‘runnin’,” Mike corrected her.

“So you know what I’m talking about?” Debbie
asked him.

“All I said was that it is a common
misconception that the title is ‘Running’ when there is actually no
‘g’.”

“It’s your word against ours,” Paul told
her.

“Do you think Gert’s going to need much more
than that to get you two kicked out?”

Mike was busy finishing off his second
brownie when Paul agreed to let Debbie in on the next prank.

“When?” Debbie asked, joining them at a small
table tucked away in the shadows of the small shop.

Mike could not get over the feeling that they
were spies in German occupied France during WWII as they discussed
their plan. Some was due to the subject matter they were studying,
but a larger portion revolved around the magic bud they had enjoyed
fifteen minutes ago.

“We have to lay low for a couple of days.
He’s so high-strung right now that whenever someone’s door opens,
he yanks his open. It’s pretty friggin’ funny,” Mike said, having a
hard time not snorting.

“He scared the shit out me the other
morning,” Paul said. “I was going down to take a shower, I don’t
even know how he heard me, but I was right next to his door when he
jumped out and told me he ‘Got me.’ Dropped my shampoo and
everything. I know he’s close to losing it because he actually
apologized.”

“Don’t you feel bad?” Deb asked us.

“A little, but it’s him or us, and I’d rather
it was him,” Mike said, and Paul nodded. “I don’t want him to go
all Hara Kari on himself or Texas library roof., I just want him to
relinquish his job as dorm douche. Oops! Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Deb laughed. “Both of
my parents were in the Navy.”

They had left it at that point and promised
to reconvene their clandestine meeting two days hence. Either that
was too long or Deb was too amped up, but she decided to take
matters into her own hands.

“What’s going on?” Paul asked Deb as he came
up to the dorm room after his Sociology class.

The entire population of the dorm occupants
were milling around outside.

“Hey, buddy,” Mike said, tossing a football
in the air. “I was sleeping, and someone pulled the damn fire
alarm.”

“Didn’t you have English Lit?” Paul
asked.

“Was that today?” Mike asked, throwing the
ball back up in the air.

“I know it was you!” A soaking wet,
towel-clad Gert yelled at Mike as he dropped the ball from the
distraction. “I can’t prove it, but I will. You super-glued my lock
and I couldn’t get in after my shower!”

“Whoa! Hold on there, boss! I didn’t even
think you European types showered,” Mike said.

“You think this is funny? You freshman turd!
I’m freezing my ass off in a towel.”

“I actually think it’s hilarious, but I still
don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Jert,” Mike
said.

“It is Gert, Gert Hans. And I promise you
that I will have you and your roommate thrown out of this
school.”

“Listen, Hansel, I was sleeping. I was having
this weird-ass dream about huge Pop-Tarts. I have no idea why you
are out here soaking wet and in a towel. And why do you not have
flip-flops on? Oh, please don’t tell me that you go into a public
shower without footwear? That is just disgusting. That’s how people
get foot fungus. Man, you’ve been in school long enough! Haven’t
you learned anything?”

Gert was so sure that he had nailed Mike,
that he was completely put off by Mike going on the offensive.

“I know you did it,” he said weakly. “I know
you did everything.”

“I’m a little sick of your accusations.
You’ve written us up five times for puissant violations and now our
academic careers hang in the balance because you’re a control
freak. My roomie and I have walked the straight and narrow for
almost three weeks. I was hoping for some congratulations, but
instead, you accuse us of even more trouble-making. I’m sure the
list of folks who loathe you is a relatively long one. Maybe you
should go back and rethink who else would do this to you.”

Gert stood there, anger flaring, his skin
tone changing hues, from blistering blue to raging red. Paul was
certain Gert was about to go ballistic.

“Um,” Debbie interjected into the
testosterone fray.

“What?!” Gert spat.

“Umm, you’ve got a little something hanging
out,” she said, pointing down.

Gert was so lost in his anger, he did not
know what she was talking about.

Mike looked down and then made his pinkie
finger fold and unfold. “The lady said you have a little something
showing,” Mike laughed.

Paul almost went to his knees, tears running
from his eyes as Gert’s red rage turned to a fevered flush when he
realized he had just exposed himself to a girl.

“You know, I’d say you could get in a lot of
trouble for that if we had actually been able to see anything,”
Mike yelled to Gert’s retreating back.

“What did you do?” Paul asked Mike.

“Dude, I’m serious. I was snoozing hard,”
Mike answered his friend.

Paul turned to Deb who was now wearing a
wicked smile. “What did you do?”

“Pretty much everything he said Mike did. I
waited until I saw him head for the shower, then I went and shoved
half a tube of super glue into his door lock. Then I waited until I
was pretty sure he had just lathered up his head in shampoo, then I
pulled the fire alarm.”

“That’s kind of risky; what if someone had
seen you?” Mike asked her.

“I went to the third floor lounge and did it.
No one ever goes there unless it’s to study and nobody does that at
three on a Friday afternoon.”

“I thought we agreed to wait a couple of
days?” Paul asked her.

“I did, but I changed my mind.”

“Nice.” Mike said, shaking his head in
disbelief. “He looks like he’s about to cry.”

Gert was over by the fire truck, yelling at
whoever would listen that someone had pulled the alarm on purpose
and that they just wanted him to come out into the cold weather in
merely a towel. The fireman was hardly even acknowledging his
existence as he checked on the truck equipment.

“I need to get back inside before I catch
pneumonia!” Gert was screaming now.

“Listen, kid,” the fire captain was saying.
“We’ll let everyone including you in when we are convinced it’s not
a real alarm.”

“I’m telling you it was not. It was pulled
specifically while I was in the shower so that I would have to come
out here like this. I even tried to go back to my room, but I could
not get back in.”

“Dankins,” the chief yelled over to one of
his subordinates. “Could you please get this kid a jacket and shut
him up? I’ve got better things to do than play baby sitter with
him.” And he walked away.

Gert looked like a war refugee, all wrapped
up in an oversized fireman jacket, huddled up on the stoop of the
truck. Paul and Mike didn’t know if Gert’s winning charm had won
the captain over, but it seemed to them to be one of the longest
fire alarm resets that they had ever been through.

“Man, he is never going to take a shower
again,” Paul said, as the three of them sat in Debbie’s dorm
room.

“I wasn’t kidding when I called him on the
whole taking a shower thing anyway,” Mike said. “He always smells
like ripe sauerkraut.”

“That’s so gross,” Deb said, holding her
nose.

“Great prank by the way,” Mike told her, and
she blushed slightly.

“Thank you,” she said, doing a small curtsy,
that did not go unnoticed by Gert.

He did not know for what reason she had
performed the small bow, but that she was flaunting her body to
those two good-for-nothings infuriated him.

The trio laid off Gert for close to two
weeks. The guy was wound so tight, he wouldn’t even go out anymore
to get food. He had delivery come two weeks straight.

“I don’t think he’s even been to class,” Paul
said to Mike as they watched the Chinese food deliveryman leave the
building.

“Was that for Gert?” Deb asked, catching up
to the two boys and pointing back towards the driver who had gotten
in his car and was getting ready to leave.

“Yeah, that’s the third order of Chinese this
week,” Mike said.

“I almost feel kind of sorry for him,” Deb
said.

“You should. You’re the one that gave him the
flu,” Paul said.

“He should have gotten a shot like the rest
of us,” Mike said, absently rubbing his arm where the vaccine had
been administered a month prior.

“Are you going to keep messing with him?” Deb
asked.

“Hey, you’re the one that brought it to a
whole new level,” Mike told her.

“Maybe we should stop, maybe he’s finally
figured out that he can’t just do whatever he wants around here
because he has a clipboard,” Paul said.

“That’s two warnings!” They could hear Gert
yelling from the hallway. “One for keeping an excess of garbage in
your room and the other for not making your bed!”

“Not making your bed? What the hell is he
talking about?” Paul said as the three went over to the door and
looked out.

Residents up and down the hallway were
looking to the fuss, Gert was walking into rooms and going
ballistic, writing students up for infractions that he seemed to be
making up as he wrote.

Most students got the message and began to
close their doors, hoping to escape the wrath of Gert Gone Mad.
Paul was one of them.

“Leave it open,” Mike said.

“What are you doing, Mike? Look at him; he’ll
write you up for your shirt,” Paul nearly whined.

“What’s wrong with Ozzy Osbourne?” Mike
asked.

“Fine. I’m going to start packing my
things.”

Gert was making a beeline for the only door
still open. Mike stepped in his way just as Gert was about to
enter.

“Whoa there, pardner,” Mike said with a
Southern drawl. “Where you going in such a hurry?”

“Mandatory room inspection!” Gert was nearly
frothing at the mouth, his pen was already making contact with the
clipboard.

“On whose authority, Gert?” Mike asked
him.

“What?! You dare to stop me!? On my own damn
authority!” Gert raged, and then made a motion to push past
Mike.

“Listen, asshole,” Mike said, pushing Gert
across the hallway to the far wall. “I’m going to say this real
soft so that you can’t subpoena any witnesses, so pay attention.”
Mike got right up to his ear. “You ever try to enter my room
without my permission, I will beat you to within 2.58 centimeters
of your worthless existence.”

The rage in Gert’s eyes cleared for a moment
as he looked into Mike’s eyes, trying to ascertain if this were an
idle threat and whether he should continue with his mission as
planned.

The tension in Gert’s bunched muscles eased
as he realized this might not be the best time to make his last
stand.

“This isn’t done, Talbot, all I need is one
more infraction and you and your halfwit friend are out of here.
And I’ve got a feeling that neither of you idiots will make it
another week.”

Mike released Gert from his grip and left him
to weasel away to another unsuspecting victim.

“What happened?” Paul asked, pulling Mike in
the room and closing the door.

“We’ve got to keep pressing his buttons,”
Mike said. “One of us is close to leaving and we need to make sure
it’s him. That dude is a whole suit short of a standard deck.”

“Looks like all you get when you stretch an
asshole to its limits is just a bigger asshole,” Deb said.

Mike stopped what he was thinking about, he
looked over at Deb before he busted out laughing.

“What?” Debbie said, blushing, not sure
exactly what she said to elicit such a response.

Paul had joined in with Mike and once tears
started to flow, Deb joined in, not even sure what for.

It was the seemingly least innocuous prank
that finally pushed Gert to his limit and the trio had nothing to
do with it. The local chapter of Iota Gamma Upsilon sorority (or
more commonly known by the call letters of their house as I Go
Upstairs, a reference that many had found to be a truism much to
the delight of all the party goers) saw to that. As an initiation
right to their pledges, they had given each one a giant container
of Vaseline and told them to use it around campus in any manner
they saw fitting, but to not come back until the tub was empty.