AN: I don't think I should have to say this, but this story will be odd and incomprehensible at best. Especially to TWD fans, whose show I will be horrifically mangling to fit into the Pushing Daisies Fuller-verse.
Supposedly, Pushing Daisies' never-produced third-season comics would have incorporated a zombie-apocalypse-y storyline. With this knowledge, I have been inspired to create yet another bizarro mashup.
Logic? I don't need no stinking logic! Sanity-free storytelling, that's the order of the day from me!
R&R and enjoy!
Chapter 1
At this very moment, in the heart of Papen County, one Phillip Phillips - who, despite his name, had virtually nothing to do with the American Idol winner of the same name - was holding a slip of paper up to the sunlight. Squinting against the impossibly bright colors of the fanciful facades around him, Phillip Phillips pocketed the paper and searched for the one building he sought above all the others in this surreal, fantasy-land city.
The facts were these - Phillip Phillips, known to his best friends as "the Governor," had traveled for nine days and nine nights from his home in the wilds of Georgia in search of a legendary figure whom, he believed, shared the same unusual power he had - after a fashion. For all the forty-one years, eight months, seventeen days, five hours, and twenty-eight minutes he had lived, the Governor had boasted a most unusual ability. Much like the Pie-maker we have come to know and love, the Governor could touch the dead, only once, and they would immediately return to life. But if he touched them again, they would die, this time forever. And if he kept them alive for longer than a minute, then something in the vicinity, of roughly equivalent "life value," would die in their place. After all, Death likes to keep his books balanced.
Although the Governor feared he might find himself lost in the maze of lurid buildings so oddly designed they couldn't possibly have been built for real, he had no trouble spotting his destination in the end. There is something about a building in the shape of a pie that makes it quite difficult to miss.
Entering the Pie Hole, the Governor approached the counter and waited for someone to talk to him. Soon enough, Olive Snook emerged, bearing a rhubarb pie for Emerson Cod, who at the moment was nowhere to be seen because he was running precisely five minutes and ten seconds late for his usual lunchtime at the Pie Hole. Olive spotted the Governor and placed the pie on the counter before saying, "Welcome to the Pie Hole. How may I help you?"
"I would like to meet your Pie-maker," said the Governor. "That British voice in the clouds told me he could be found here."
Olive put on an ingratiating smile. "Yes, of course," she said, wondering exactly what kind of insanity she was about to step into. "Ned?" She called into the kitchen. "There's a gentleman in a dirty suit here to see you."
"I'll be right out!" answered the Pie-maker.
"He'll be out shortly," said Olive. "In the meantime, could I interest you in a nice warm slice of pie? I have to recommend the strawberry. I've always been partial to that one."
The Governor smiled politely. "Thanks, but no thanks," he said. "Never have been too fond of strawberries. But I see you have a grape pie on the menu," he added, pointing to the sandwich board above the kitchen window. "So hard to find that flavor. May I have a slice?"
"Absolutely," said Olive, bustling into the kitchen and returning, two minutes later, with a sizzling hot slice of grape pie. "A la mode?" she asked.
"No thanks," said the Governor. He paid for his slice and took a seat, noticing that the round windows had a weird bluish tinge to them, especially at the edges. He took the first bite of his grape pie, allowing the sweet succulence to touch his tongue - only to be followed by a sharp but momentary flash of pain, as the grape fragment in his mouth suddenly grew tiny fangs and bit him on his tooth. He quickly chewed up the grape and swallowed it before it could bite him anywhere else in his mouth.
"Hello, sir," said the Pie-maker, sitting across from the Governor. "How may I help you?"
"Excuse me," said the Governor, wiping his mouth. "First I should introduce myself. Name's Phillip Phillips, but they call me the Governor. And you are?"
"Ned." They shook hands.
"Well, Ned," said the Governor, "I have a little problem with a dead person on my property. I think he might have gotten himself shocked to death by my electric fence, but I just wanna be sure my son didn't shoot him dead or nothing. Gotta watch that boy, he's not exactly right in the head."
The Pie-maker nodded. "Mysterious death? You've come to the right place. Just let me call my partner, I'm sure he'd be very interested in this."
"Very good," said the Governor. "My place is on the other side of the cemetery, so I'll be waiting by the main entrance. As soon as I finish this marvelous pie, that is. Very well done."
"Thanks a lot," said the Pie-maker. "When do you expect you'll be at the cemetery?"
The Governor checked his watch. "Thirty minutes."
"Meet you there," said the Pie-maker, as he returned to the kitchen, leaving the Governor to continue eating the grape pie even as it attempted to eat him.