WARNING: *MAJOR* SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3. READ AHEAD AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
And just… be forewarned, but this humour is probably going to seem dark. However, after what happened, I think a little lighthearted fun might do people some good. I know it helped me. Try not to take anything to heart here though, ok? Ok.
Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah!
LEAFS: Alright, you know how to work that thing, correct? Camera turns on, camera records me. You're not just another scrub that my agents plucked off the street, are you? Because we don't have the funds to go out and try to replace yet another camera crew, and I don't work with fucking amateurs!
CAMERAMAN: Uhh… no sir! Err, I mean… yes! Yessir, I know how to work the camera… as for the "street" thing…
LEAFS: Whatever! I don't have time to deal with this right now, peasant! Our news chopper's going to be here any minute now! Ron, how's my hair holding up? …RON!
AGENT: Well, aside from the receding hairline and the fact that you look more like a porcupine with a heavy drinking problem, I'd say you're good to go.
LEAFS: Excellent! See, boy? Now there's a guy that knows how to take charge! Ron, I'm promoting you to Executive Producer. Congratulations!
AGENT: Does that come with a raise, sir?
LEAFS: Hell no!
CAMERAMAN: …what am I doing with my life?
Welcome ladies, gentlemen and walkers of all ages to our segment this evening! Tonight's programming will include an observation into the lives of not the undead creatures this time around, but our living, breathing brethren as they go about their daily lives in the aftermath of a nuclear devastation –
CAMERAMAN: Psst! Uhh, sir? That's those "Fallout" games you're describing right now… This is…-
LEAFS: Goddamit! Boy, you ruined my close-up! How am I supposed to prove to the audience about what a cool, charismatic, creative figure I am if you keep pitching in your ten cents?! You are treading on some mighty thin ice here!
CAMERAMAN: Aaaand that's the Last of Us…
LEAFS: Silence! I will not have you butting into the program when you're clearly unwanted! Now, be a good little boy and get back behind that camera! And, umm… no dinner for you tonight!
CAMERAMAN: Your roasting game is going soft in your elder years, old man.
…ANYWAYS, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we have a special treat planned for all of you tonight. Humans are a fascinating species – coming with all sorts of different emotions, hopes and dreams, many of them have friends and family who they love and deeply care for.
But what happens when that factor is ripped away from you? How do you keep carrying on when all of what makes you a human being is suddenly replaced with loneliness, depression and danger at every corner?
Well, if you were looking for the answer to any of those thought-provoking questions, then what the f #% are you doing here? This isn't the philosophy channel! Get off your high horse and leave our mindless, drool-induced viewers alone!
Or just, I dunno, go back to Canada or something!
Now tonight, we have flown in our news chopper over to a chilly, snow-riddled community known as Wellington in order to investigate reports that they have one of the safest sanctuaries in the entire country. Or at least in Michigan, anyways. C'mon now, it's not as if we check this stuff out before we broadcast…
We will observe the survivors in their natural habitat, taking notes about their cannibalistic rituals, and conduct interviews to see if these people truly are as adapt to the environment as they claim to be.
But it would help if we could actually get inside of Wellington first. Yo! Edith, where you at, girl?! I know you're all hiding from us behind those big ass walls! Little pig, little pig, let me in!
RANDOM ASSHOLE #1: Fuck off, you Negan-impersonating shit!
As you can see, the local inhabitants are very friendly to newcomers, particularly those walking up to the door with a chopper loaded with enough water guns to soak the entire complex twice over. So, as we return to our air vehicle and land in the center of town, knocking over wooden shacks and slicing kids' toys in half with the power of our spinning rotor blades, we shall step out and expect the warmest of welcomes. After all, we must deliver the news to as many people as possible, and our needs are paramount. They must take precedence over the daily lives of the smallfolk around here.
NOT-SO-INNOCENT BYSTANDER: Who the hell is this guy talking to? The walls?
MUCH MORE INNOCENT BYSTANDER: Must be another one of those wack jobs we picked up from Ontario… Fuckin' weirdoes, man…
Ahh, now this seems to be a fairly bustling community! All of these people going about their daily routines, with a supply shop for weapons and bullets, a few closed-off areas for food collection, kids playing in the street, elders shooting us the bird, and various others all performing tasks for the betterment of the community. Oh, if only you could experience this for yourselves here, folks! If only I could pull you through the screen and allow you to experience Wellington for yourselves!
…but screw that shit. It's not as if you wanted to see or explore any part of this place whatsoever. You'd much rather spend a couple of hours controlling some baseball player with a rather un-god-like beard, cracking jokes with his pot-smoking, brother-marrying love interest in a van than to do anything like that. We know you. We know you better than you know yourself.
Hmm, now which one of these fine survivors should be the first to receive the glory of one of my lengthy interviews? How about you, good sir? Would you care to tell us about the –
…did… did he just walk away? From me?!
CAMERAMAN: Sir, you should probably just try to roll with it. We're on a time limit here, and we don't want our time slot at three thirty in the morning to get taken over by the Game of Thrones crew…
LEAFS: How DARE he walk away from me! Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, ignores my interviews! These ungrateful little…
…ahem, yes. Quite. Let's continue, shall we? Surely not all of these inhabitants are as brutish as that one. Ah, here we go – just the person I was looking for. Edith, so nice of you to join us this evening! Now tell our anxious audience members at home, how has your community stood standing for all this time? What's your secret? Do you have a secret stash of walker repellent that you haven't shared with us? Please tell me you have walker repellent… You do, don't you? Oh, you cheeky bastards, you!
EDITH: Clem, open up! It's me!
Umm, excuse me, ma'am? You didn't answer my questions! Not a single one of them! No, don't walk over there, where are you going?!
FRUIT NINJA: Edith, what's wrong?
EDITH: The group from last week… they're back. And now they're armed… this is bad, Clem.
Wait, what? Where is everyone going? Why are you all running away? Nobody is going ANYWHERE until they've answered at least one of my damn interview questions! I worked all night on this shit!
Arrrggghh, dammit! They've broken through, and something tells me that these fellows aren't going to be as amicable to a Q and A as the residents of Wellington. Especially not with the fact that they're starting to shoot the people left, right and center. Mowing people down with a machine gun tends to put people on the noddy list.
So, with that being said, we shall bid thee adieu, Wellington. Thank you for the brief time we shared together. It's certainly been… an experience.
Alrighty then. You there! Camera boy! Hurry up with that thing, would ya? Just watching you lug that thing around makes me want to push you down a flight of stairs! Where's Ron at, anyways? We need him to fly us out in the helicopter! Ron? RON?!
CAMERAMAN: Umm… I don't really know how to tell you this, boss… but, uhh… Ron is –
LEAFS: Oh for… Spit it out, peasant! Your constant blabbering is messing up my complexion!
CAMERAMAN: Ron… he's dead, sir.
LEAFS: WHAT?!
CAMERAMAN: Yeah, that's what I've been trying to tell you. Ron got shot in the head when Wellington was invaded. They tied his body to one of the rotors, and they're spinning it around as we speak.
LEAFS: Ugh! Of all the people to have been killed off, why did it have to be Ron? He was the only one around here who didn't annoy me! How are we supposed to fly to our next destination in time? We've got a schedule to keep!
CAMERAMAN: W-wait… so you're saying the only reason that you wanted him to live… was so that he could be our pilot?
LEAFS: Are you sassing me, boy?!
CAMERAMAN: N-no, sir! Not at all!
…
…
…huff-puff… wheeze!
Oh god… this is what I get… for neglecting my cardio…
Too. Much. Running. Am I right, folks?
Aaaand, we're back! If you're just tuning in, pay no attention to the sweat stains on my shirt. Having to run after a new story because of my associate's incompetence is taxing work, and if you're put off by my appearance, well… Nobody asked you, anyways!
Now, we seem to be a little bit lost in the woods right now, thanks to our cameraman's piss-poor directions, but don't you worry, faithful viewers! I'm sure that a worthy broadcast is yet on the horizon, waiting for us to simply reach out and grasp it at any point in time.
Hmm… Aha! There we go! A little girl and what appears to be some sort of toddler, chasing after what appears to be… a hare? A rabbit? Bugs Bunny himself? I dunno. Whatever it is, I've got a feeling that the Discovery Channel might be making a comeback here, folks! Let's watch and observe as the gun-toting predator stalks her prey in preparation for catching her next meal…
Any second now… Any second, and…
WILD BABY: BIKA!
FAMILIAR BADASS: Ugh… AJ! That's dinner! Aren't you hungry? We're gonna starve – I'm starving, and we're out of food!
Thankfully, neither of the predators notice us thus far. Our camouflage of Maple Leafs jerseys and bright, white and blue toques hides us perfectly among the brown, green and red backdrop of the surrounding forest, but I've got my hockey stick out here, just in case. We may need to start bashing in skulls if necessary.
As the animal scurries away, with the predator and her cargo traipsing down the hill towards an old, abandoned car of some kind, our dear, old friend, Bob the walker, appears next to us again! How've you been doing, Robert?
Wraggh!
Glad to hear it, sonny boy! Now… Hey, wait a minute! Don't come near me! I'm the host, remember?! I know I'm not wearing any of your innards, but you can't try to eat me! I thought we had something special here! AAAAAHHHH!
Ten agonizing minutes later…
FUCK! That was my microphone-holding hand, too! Bob, you bastard! Quit chewing on it! If you're going to act like a dog, I'm afraid we're going to have to neuter you eventually! And that's never a fun experience for anybody!
Alright, well, as I've been off not completely bawling my eyes out as the cameraman was sawing off my limb with a massive grin on his face, it seems that the predator has gotten herself into quite the pickle here. Bob had brought the party with him once again, and they are closing in on our human subjects with interest.
Thinking quickly, the predator stuffs the little bundle of joy into the front seat of the car, clearly confident that he'll be able to drive them off into the sunset if necessary. Taking out her pistol, the subject marks her first target with ease, and then a second bullet is lodged into our second walker's brain as he goes down in a bloody pulp.
Scurrying back to collect her cargo, with the rascally rabbit having fled its captors, our subject rushes towards the car, opens the door, and –
SLAM!
POOR, LITTLE BADASS: AHHHHHHHH! OH MY GOD! FUUUUUCK!
…Umm… I… I believe we may be experiencing… some technical difficulties here, folks. Heh…
S-somehow, our subject manages to pick up a rock… turns behind her and sm-smashes the walker in the face with it… I… I think that scream will forever resound in my nightmares… Good grief…
CAMERAMAN: Umm… sir? I don't mean to alarm you or anything, but…"
LEAFS: In a minute, boy! Can't you see I'm in the middle of grieving?! This is a very traumatic experience!
CAMERAMAN: B-but sir…!
As the walker falls onto its back, likely falling dead due to how cringe-inducing this scene has become, we unfortunately turn back towards our predator as the cargo cries out in protest of the low-res graphics encompassing the vehicle he is in. The subject looks at the door handle, takes one look at it, and…
W-wait a minute! Hold on one sec! Don't you even think about –
SPLECH!
MINI-HERCULES: AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHGHHHHHHHHH!
*Leafs empties the remains of his stomach content into a bush nearby*
Ugh! What the… what the hell?! What the fuckity-fuck?! Oh god, ew! That doesn't even look like a fucking finger anymore! Bleh, put it away! Put it back into the door! I don't want to see that nasty-ass shit! Take the camera off of that crap! Let's get out of here!
CAMERAMAN: But sir! What about the news broadcast?
LEAFS: Screw that! We'll find another one to look at! Let's get out of here!
Jesus… I don't get paid enough for this shit… I look like absolute ass right now…
CAMERAMAN: Won't get any argument from me on that account…
LEAFS: Did I ask for your input, unpaid intern?! No, no I didn't.
CAMERAMAN: Wait a minute! Unpaid?! What the hell do you mean unpaid?! Ron told me I'd be getting double the last guy's salary… It was zero last time, wasn't it?!
Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! If you're seriously just tuning in now, well… surely you've got better things to do than to just laze around here, right? Go do something productive! Ride your bike, hang out with your chums, write a fanfiction and then hide it from your family and friends because you're too embarrassed about it to show anyone other than…
Ahem. Sorry about that. Now, according to my new Nostalgia Meter that I just created in my spare time, there is a large source coming in at relatively high speed towards our location. If we can time their arrival accurately, we may be able to get a closer look at the action.
Now, when we do this, it is imperative that we do not make ourselves recognizable to the subjects we are studying this evening. One false move could rip apart the space-time continuum and send the entire world plummeting into chaos and darkness.
You know, the same thing that happens when you get spoiled about two major character deaths right before the big premiere of a hotly-anticipated video game series. Not that I'd, uh… know anything about that.
Ah! Here they come, right on schedule. My Nostalgia Meter has never let me down yet! And one… two… three!
Narrowly avoiding a grizzly end, I gracefully land on the hood of the car as the stupid cameraman hangs onto the back for dear life. The things I have to do around here, folks!
GOD: That's good. Gettin' into first gear's the hardest part. Now just stay on the road, most important rule there is. Now let's try shiftin' her into second.
The subject driving the vehicle, barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel, looks oddly familiar as she does as thy Lord and Savior commands. I can't quite put my finger on it though… Hmm…
Oh well. It's hardly like it makes a difference to our viewers at home. I'd still like to forget about the subject who lost her finger, though… Geez. I can't even imagine what these two would say if they had witnessed anything like that.
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE: I want to try it again!
SIR KENNETH OF EVE: You will, don't worry. And once we get down to Florida, we'll ditch the wheels and I'll make a sailor out of ya. Mark my words.
The feels just keep on coming, ladies and gentlemen! Y'know what? This seems like a pretty peaceful setup here. Perfect spot for our documentary! No walkers, no raging barbarians, no nothing! Yep, this piece is going to increase my bonus cheque tenfold, and give our ratings the nice, little boost they need so that we don't get crushed by the corporate boots at Telltale News Entertainment.
Sweet! Nothing could possibly go wrong now!
SIR BEARDS-A-LOT: We'll watch the sunrise every morning, all three of us.
Couldn't agree more, Nostalgia Buddy!
LEE'S DISCIPLE: But we ain't gettin' nowhere doin' twenty-five miles an hour. Put 'er into third, let's get her really cookin'. Hmm… I just can't get him to talk. It's unusual for a boy his age.
Umm… well, look, pal… Are you sure that's such a good id-
WONDER WOMAN: There's nothing wrong with AJ. He'll talk when he's ready.
I'm, uhh… not really feeling that stellar right now, folks. Might be getting a little carsick or something, but… HEY! CAMERA BOY! What the hell do you think this is?!
CAMERAMAN: Break time. I'm on lunch, bitch.
LEAFS: Are you serious?! We're rolling right now, you dumbass!
CAMERAMAN: Look, buddy – my union contract specifically states that I get at least a fifteen minute break every half an hour. So that's what I'm doing. Now, let me finish up my coffee.
LEAFS: No! Your union doesn't provide a benefits package with that! And if you ever jeopardize the sanctity and stupendousness of this television program ever again, I won't hesitate to throw you to the worst monsters known to humankind…
CAMERAMAN: You don't mean…?
LEAFS: The Jane fans…
CAMERAMAN: Ok! Alright, I'll finish up already, geez! You and your damn rules, man…
*Tosses his empty coffee cup onto the road in front of them*
CARL'S COOLER STUNT DOUBLE: Crap!
Swerving back and forth due to our soon-to-be-fired intern's rookie mistake, our subject attempts to stabilize the car after seemingly slipping on nothing at all. The survivors start to panic, with the god of thunder attempting to clutch the steering wheel to no avail.
The two crash into a tree but moments later, and our brave heroes overcome yet another obstacle as once again they –
…oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.
DRIVER OF THE YEAR: Shit! Are… are you okay, Kenny?
JESUS REINCARNATED: I'm fine… I'm… Shit. Help me up.
Are… are you serious right now? Are you all seeing this at home right now, folks?
PROFESSOR XAVIER: I don't… I don't feel anything…
LEE'S PROTÉGÉ: Th-that's good!
BOATS N' URBANS: No. Clem, I… I don't feel… anything. I can't feel my legs… I just… can't get up. God dammit!
W-well, don't worry, stubborn viewers! I'm sure with a little Disney magic, our subject here will be good as new! Yeah, any second now, our lord almighty will stand up, heal all of his injuries and get back on the road with the little companions beside him. This is nothing he can't shake off, I'm certain.
Right?
BOAT MASTER 5000: You gotta go help AJ, Clem… I ain't lettin' you watch those fuckers chew me up!
MISS SALT LICK: No! You've gotta get up! Come on, Kenny, help me!
JANE'S BEST FRIEND: No! Clementine, no! There's no point!
…
…
…are you fucking KIDDING me?! Hold on a second, cut the tape! What is this bullshit?!
WARNING: RANT MODE ACTIVATED
What kind of Monty Python, circus freakshow ending is this?! Are you telling me the subject of our rage and affection for the past two seasons has been killed because he forgot the first rule of driving?! A fucking seatbelt did him in?!
Sir Kenneth looks like somebody took the stuffing from a pillow, painted it grey and then stuck it on his leather-formed face! His eye patch looks like they went on a last-minute shopping spree to the dollar store!
Where's the plot armour?! He wore that mantle for two whole years, and now suddenly the character development tank is empty for him?!
Who wrote this script?! I demand a full refund!
CAMERAMAN: Sir… your blood pressure and everything? You should really try to calm down…
LEAFS: WRRRRRRAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
CAMERAMAN: Here, eat the Snickers. You get a little butthurt when you're hungry… Better?
LEAFS: Better.
Welcome back to our special four-hour program tonight, walkers and bandits! Thank you for sticking with us through what has undoubtedly been a very productive, thought-provoking experience filled with nothing but heartfelt stories, informative interviews and plenty of exploration along the way. The home stretch is now upon us, and at last, we come to the last jungle of our animal kingdom – Howe's Hardware.
Now, to the untrained eye, this may seem to be simply another run-of-the-mill hardware store, complete with all the paint cans, wooden beams and do-it-yourself, untrained dads you could possibly ask for. But that isn't the case here, not anymore. No… Howe's is a safe haven, full of opportunity and promise, where nothing bad ever happens and the sun always shines its warm embrace over the survivors living inside.
…okay, except maybe for the massive, douchebag dictator who used to live here. And his underdog, camo-wearing assistant. And the people pushed off the roof. And the people getting their face smashed in with a crowbar. And the chopped-off hands. And the massive walker herds.
But other than that, there's absolutely nothing wrong! Such a warm, friendly, tranquil place, isn't it? Ah, but here we go – let's have a look at what these two survivors are up to, lounging in their chairs just outside of the store without a care in the world. The underage tattoo art may seem a little alarming, but if you're seriously pissed off about it, I will grab you the phone number for the whambulance myself. Free of charge.
MS. UGLY JACKET: It kinda hurts.
BRUNETTE BOMBSHELL: I'm sorry. I know it sucks.
Nothing terribly exciting so far, but our subjects seem to be exerting a fairly high amount of sadness pouring out in waves. Perhaps if the younger one hadn't had her hand injected with ink, we wouldn't have this problem.
Cue Captain Obvious!
KENNY'S NUMBER ONE FAN: I… I haven't been sleeping well lately.
THE REASON YOU BOUGHT THE GAME: I noticed.
POLTERGEIST: So many people died here… So many ghosts. Sometimes they're all I think about. Especially during the night.
Holy shyte! Did you hear that, ladies and gentlemen? Ghosts! Here! In the store! Our documentary might be saved after all! I can see the title now – "Spectre: The Flying Luke who Haunts Your Dreams"!
CAMERAMAN: That title sucks ass.
LEAFS: You watch your goddamn mouth!
LARA CROFT 2.0: You know, he does need a middle name. His parents… they never got a chance. Go on. Pick one. No time like the present.
Ooh… what's it going to be, folks? Will it be something profound and meaningful? Something that will inspire and delight the audience, and spread cheer and goodwill across the land?
Hush, everyone! I think she's about to make her announcement!
DOG BITE SUPREME: …what about… Kenny…?
Ba-dum, tss!
OHHHH SHIT, SON! SHE JUST GOT TOLD, BROTHER! What you got now, subject number two, huh? What you got?! Sick burn there, bra!
…umm, yes. Professional… Act. Professional.
MOLLY'S MORE DEVELOPED CLONE: I was just thinking "Jaime" was pretty cool… for a boy or a girl.
LITTLE SIS: Jaime! That was your sister!
…uhh, yeah? We… we know that, already. I mean… we're not that dumb over here...
ASSASSIN'S CREED: Yeah. I used to think that if I was ever… picking out names I'd… Anyway, the deal was ink first, then a perimeter sweep.
MINI-ME: But I just checked it a few days ago.
DEBBIE DOWNER: We're on our own here, Clem. If we'd been doing this earlier, that asshole family you sent away never would've broken in and stolen from us.
Oh my… Have any of you tried these candy bars? They're simply delicious! Mmm… chocolate's my favourite…
MISS INDEPENDENT: So get to it. I want you to be prepared… for anything… I'm gonna… go take a little nap. I'm, uh… not feeling that great.
Hmm… this is highly… peculiar.
But oh well! Clearly there's absolutely nothing wrong in this situation, and that our subject clearly is as happy as your little brother when he finally beat you at that damn video game. Let's follow our younger subject around for this perimeter sweep, and we'll be right back with all of you after the break.
Now where did I leave that stupid rope? I could've sworn it was here a minute ago...
Alright, I think we're all freshened up from that little walk around the building. No walkers, no bad guys, nothing but the squeaky-clean smell of walker guts sprayed all over the parking lot and into the bottom floor of the hardware store. Our young subject seems to have a desire to head up to the office in order to swap stories over their mutual dislike of Jane fanboys, so let's follow along and see where the conversation leads. I think we may be in for a real treat this time around, folks! I hope that all of our patience over the past four hour marathon has been rewarded in full!
Creak!
MISS "I'M GETTING TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT": Oh my god!
…
…
…what is… camera boy… what is that?
CAMERAMAN: Th-that's, uhh… the subject, sir…
LEAFS: …are you certain? Because I for sure felt that her survival mentality would've trumped over an apparent suicide.
CAMERAMAN: Umm… are you feeling okay there, sir?
Crack!
WARNING: RANT MODE PART TWO ACTIVATED! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! MAYDAY! MAYDAY!
What the shit?! What the fuckity, flying fuck just happened?! Are you kidding me right now?! Hanging?! By my rope, no less?! Who the hell is this stranger strung up by her neck right there?!
Intervention! Intervene! We need to intervene right now!
CAMERAMAN: It's too late for that, sir! Besides, the Telltale censors won't allow for it anyways!
What does that even mean?! Are you honestly telling me that the subject came back for the younger one, risked her own life and went against her own instincts to try and bridge the gap between the two of them… only to throw it all away on a whim?! Is that what you're trying to tell me?
How the hell is this possible?! We got to interact in an on-rails, completely out of character dialogue session for… *looks at watch*… less than FIVE MINUTES! FIVE! AS IN THE NUMBER! AND WE GOT LESS!
Why in the world does our subject look like she got dumped upside down in a swarm of killer bees?! Our audience members didn't watch this to become depressed!
Who wrote this script?! I demand a full refund! Again!
That does it! Peasant! Cut the tape, we're hitting the road.
…
…
…well? Peasant? Are you coming or –
UNDEAD BABY MOMMA: Wraaagghh!
SOON-TO-BE-DEAD CAMERAMAN: No! I didn't even get my paycheck yet! How am I supposed to feed my goldfish next week? Stop it! Please, don't – AGGGGGHHHHHH!
Oh god, we are so getting cancelled…
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