Todd Delzinko, previously just another lazy madman with occasionally violent and prolonged delusions of grandeur, rises from the grave and wreaks a sort of havoc previously unseen in the world today. Now, all that can stop him are the combined talents of Jimmy House, the man whose delusions of grandeur are true, and the Faceless Employee, who has spent his/her entire life combating the problem of the undead. But can even these two warriors overcome the Zinko Zombie? How can Jimmy House reconcile his deeply held religious beliefs with the leering proof of Todd's undead nature? It seems like these questions would be easier to write for

Jimmy House and the Faceless Employee
vs.
Todd Delzinko Zombified

"What makes you think you're qualified for this job?" Jimmy House asked. His gaze rested intently on the applicant sitting across his desk; his desk was so wide that he could barely make out the features of the person opposite him. Jimmy didn't feel like interviewing, but Fritz had gotten arrested for drunken carousing in Mexico again and, when the chief executive was incapacitated, Jimmy had to take over his duties. This was not what the vice-executive of Delzinko's Dead Inc. wanted. He wanted to play Minesweeper and drink the fifth of bourbon in his desk, assuming he could find it. He'd started to count the drawers in his desk once and reached forty-three before giving up.

"The living dead compel me, Mr. House. My life has been dedicated to their eradication and nothing else. I am functionally illiterate, my home is an old car I stole from a junkyard and all my income from panhandling goes toward purchasing items that include 'zombie' or 'undead' in their label and burning them," replied the applicant in short, snipped tones. Jimmy was amazed at how well he had pretended to listen.

"Whatever. Fetch me some coffee," Jimmy snapped. He spun around in his chair to ignore the applicant during this crucial testing period, but Jimmy underestimated the chair's spinning capability and made a full revolution to once more face the future Faceless Employee. "Oh," added Jimmy to make it seem like he'd meant to once more address the still-stationary coffee fetcher, "and you're name is Herbert for today. It'll help people remember you in the office."

Herbert stood shakily and departed. Jimmy clicked merrily on his Minesweeper window and, when Herbert returned, Jimmy yelled at him for interrupting his hard work and ruining several important projects, driving down DDI's already perilously low stock prices.

"I brought your coffee," Herbert said gingerly and extended the steaming cup. Jimmy took it cautiously; he sniffed it and looked at Herbert, then at the cup.

After a few moments of this wary observation, Jimmy handed the cup back to Herbert and said, "You drink it first. Here at DDI, we're all equals."

Herbert gingerly retook the coffee and sipped at it meticulously. Herbert watched Jimmy the entire time, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Now," Jimmy said, a tiny smile twisting his features into a sinister countenance, "you want to work for DDI why?"

Herbert set the coffee cup down so hard it splashed hot coffee all over part of Jimmy's desk. Face scrunched up, Herbert replied slowly, "I need money... to fight the undead."

Jimmy nodded. "Interesting. What would you say is your greatest weakness, Mr. Herbert?"

Herbert, wiping coffee-stained hands on Jimmy's plush carpet, sat back with a start. Tension clutched Herbert firmly, and no words were forthcoming.

"Your biggest deterrent to being hired, Mr. Herbert, right now!" Jimmy stood, placing his fists on his desk and hunching forward. Unfortunately, his desk was too big for him to place his face within even ten feet of Herbert's, but the applicant remained cowed nonetheless.

"I... cannot bathe for many days. You see, I must... well, I have to be able to blend in with the undead," Herbert muttered meekly. After a strong initial pronouncement, Herbert felt weak and wilted under the glaring blaze of Jimmy House's gaze. The zombie hunter didn't have much left to conclude the the interview with.

Jimmy deviously shrugged off the weakness. "You're trying to work for Delzinko's Dead Inc., not McDonald's. What do we care if you don't bathe? Most of the people here can't figure out how to work a faucet, much less a bathtub fixture. That's why we lead the industry in our product."

Herbert saw the bait and didn't take it. Instead, the applicant forced Jimmy's hand. It was the only way out. "I don't have any other weaknesses. Does that mean I have the job?"

Minesweeper called to Jimmy House, singing his name with a modulating cadence he found irresistible. All he needed to do was make a call and he would be reunited with his preferred presidential time waster. Jimmy looked at Herbert and realized he didn't even know the applicant's gender.

"I need to-" Jimmy began but, as inevitably happened whenever Jimmy House is around, the door burst open. Todd Delzinko, undead zombie, stood there, clothes ragged and worn, right hand extended forward in search of a mouse to also play Minesweeper.

Todd, ever aware of the cliche expected of him, exclaimed, "Must eat brain!" Then he staggered unsteadily towards Jimmy House and began to climb over the vice-executive's desk.

After a few moments, Jimmy decided to ignore the shambling undead and squeeze in a few beginner games of Minesweeper. He smiled gratefully, but Todd dislodged a potted plant that in turn yanked out Jimmy's phone cord right as he was about to win.

Jimmy could take no more. He stood, clapped his hands on the sides of Todd's head to halt the zombie's advance, and began to speak, "You both have seen the House acting responsibly as the president of this corporation, but there comes a time when even the president must have words in an amateur manner, and that time has arrived. You see, Herbert, Jimmy House doesn't care if you want to take the undead on dates to the local five and dime unless Jimmy is already there collecting bottle caps, and then I'll only give you a nasty look. You can ramble and rumble about how the undead desire to conspire for command of this world, but as long as the House has his cable and his company computer, he could care less. This brings us to you, Todd. The House wrote you a very nice poem, but you had to make that into a waste of the House's very important time by coming back as a zombie, probably because of all the rock music you listened to. It makes me a bit unhappy to think that the House's current employer has to contend with the legal ramifications of your flawed resurrection and, if Jimmy don't get his paycheck, Jimmy is not going to be able to get his kicks off, and if Jimmy don't get kicks, there's going to be a lot of sad homeless orphans because Jimmy likes to burn down shelters when he's in a bad mood. It's a House institution to cope with suffering by spreading it to others in excess. For instance, Mr. Delzinko, my suffering from not playing Minesweeper will now manifest itself." As Jimmy concluded, he leapt onto the desk and kicked Todd off of it. Then Jimmy jumped off the desk onto Todd's back. He picked up the zombie, shook some sense into his rotted brain and, with a warning shout, tossed Delzinko out the office window.

"That's one problem taken care of," Jimmy said as he plugged his computer back in. "Eh, Herbert?"

Herbert stood, hands tightly in fists, and shouted, "I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert! I am not Herbert!"

Jimmy House, with a grin and a knowing wink, responded, "You're hired!"

The end but only for now because undead can always come back.