Prawn Of The Dead

(I go to my local supermarket to return an item.)

Me: “I would like to return these prawns, please.”

Employee: *with a snarky tone* “And why do you feel like you’re warranted a return?”

Me: “They turned my husband into a zombie.”

Employee: *blinks* “Pardon me?”

Me: “My husband ate them last night, and then became unwell. He woke up this morning as a zombie, and I think it was the prawns’ fault.”

Employee: “Everyone knows that to become a zombie you have to be bitten by one. Bad prawns don’t cause zombification.”

Me: “What about the first one?”

Employee: “First what?”

Me: “There has to be a first zombie, a patient zero. I believe my husband is that person.”

Employee: “I’m sorry, be that as it may, I still don’t think that the prawns–”

(Just then, we are interrupted by a sound of broken glass. We turn to see my zombified husband shuffle into the store.)

Me: “Oh, no, he got out of the car.”

Employee: ”You bought your zombie-husband with you?!”

Me: “Yes, as proof.”

Employee: “Proof of what?”

(My zombie-husband shuffles towards the frozen fish section.)

Zombie-Husband: “PRAAAAAAWWWWWNS…”

(Pause.)

Employee: “Let me get you started on that refund…”