How I Met Your Mother ficlet: Undead Bro
Sep. 4th, 2008 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
littledoglaughedTitle: Undead Bro
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rustydog
Rating/Warnings: PG, no spoilers, zombie character
Words: 300
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bringthehappy's Happyfest II for the prompt "How I Met Your Mother; ensemble; zombies"
(At the Happyfest: One of the things Barney liked best about zombies was that when you told them to suit up, they didn't whine and complain about it...)
One of the things Barney liked best about zombies was that when you told them to suit up, they didn't whine and complain about it. They just let you tie their tie and as long as you kept them distracted, they didn't try to eat you. And they made awesome wingmen: sentimental girls felt sorry for them, and shallow girls just thought you looked that much better next to a pale, drooling member of the undead.
"I read that the government is definitely working on a cure for zombieism," Marshall said as they sipped their beers at MacLaren's, "but they're not telling anyone in case they accidentally create a race of superzombies. Isn't that cool? Ted could be cured!"
"Or become a superzombie!" Lily added enthusiastically.
"Shut up! They're not doing that. Are they?" Barney said, leaning back in the booth as if he could avoid Marshall's information.
"Maybe," Robin narrowed her eyes at him as she realized something, "does that scare you? You like Ted better as a zombie!"
"No I don't!" Barney said, managing to look aggrieved. "I never... Ted is my best friend, alive or dead! Sorry, Marshall, but—"
Marshall shook his head good-naturedly. "No offense taken."
Lily changed the subject, and they had to raise their voices slightly to compete with Zombie Ted. Like a contented labrador retriever, he moaned the most when he was happy. Barney patted him affectionately on the head, deftly avoiding the teeth that tried to follow his hand.
He had already scoped out a pair of girls for them. They were standing at the bar, the hot one ordering drinks and trying to keep her friend—who was hot by zombie standards, if you squinted—from wandering away after a delicious bald man.
Tonight was going to be legendary.
Author:
rustydogRating/Warnings: PG, no spoilers, zombie character
Words: 300
Notes: Written for
bringthehappy's Happyfest II for the prompt "How I Met Your Mother; ensemble; zombies"(At the Happyfest: One of the things Barney liked best about zombies was that when you told them to suit up, they didn't whine and complain about it...)
One of the things Barney liked best about zombies was that when you told them to suit up, they didn't whine and complain about it. They just let you tie their tie and as long as you kept them distracted, they didn't try to eat you. And they made awesome wingmen: sentimental girls felt sorry for them, and shallow girls just thought you looked that much better next to a pale, drooling member of the undead.
"I read that the government is definitely working on a cure for zombieism," Marshall said as they sipped their beers at MacLaren's, "but they're not telling anyone in case they accidentally create a race of superzombies. Isn't that cool? Ted could be cured!"
"Or become a superzombie!" Lily added enthusiastically.
"Shut up! They're not doing that. Are they?" Barney said, leaning back in the booth as if he could avoid Marshall's information.
"Maybe," Robin narrowed her eyes at him as she realized something, "does that scare you? You like Ted better as a zombie!"
"No I don't!" Barney said, managing to look aggrieved. "I never... Ted is my best friend, alive or dead! Sorry, Marshall, but—"
Marshall shook his head good-naturedly. "No offense taken."
Lily changed the subject, and they had to raise their voices slightly to compete with Zombie Ted. Like a contented labrador retriever, he moaned the most when he was happy. Barney patted him affectionately on the head, deftly avoiding the teeth that tried to follow his hand.
He had already scoped out a pair of girls for them. They were standing at the bar, the hot one ordering drinks and trying to keep her friend—who was hot by zombie standards, if you squinted—from wandering away after a delicious bald man.
Tonight was going to be legendary.
