Brains, Brews, and Bad Ideas – Dee’s Date with Destiny (a.k.a. Weaver Wood)

It’s another day with our comic strip at The Candy Bar, where the coffee is hot, the company is weird, and the conversations are 95% confusing and 5% life-threatening. Frenchy French, our bubbly blonde translator of all things odd, continues her cappuccino convo with Dee Seast, Charmy’s somehow still-functioning girlfriend.

Let’s set the stage: Flimp the Chimp has already fled after Dee tried to nickname him “snack.” (Honestly, Flimp should’ve seen that one coming.) Now, enter our next victim—er—guest: Weaver Wood.

Weaver walks into The Candy Bar with the kind of swagger that says, “I just solved quantum mechanics using two straws and a muffin wrapper.” He spots Frenchy and wanders over, all smiles and caffeine cravings.

“Hey Frenchy,” he grins, “who’s the goth chick with the lazy eye and that sweet scent of formaldehyde?”

“This,” Frenchy says cheerfully, “is Dee Seast. Charmy’s girlfriend. She’s a zombie.”

Weaver, being Weaver, responds with a casual, “Cool. So like, full undead or just a little expired?”

Dee turns to him with a hollow stare and lets out a low growl. “Aaaaarghhhhhh…”

Frenchy listens, tilts her head, and nods. “She says she wants to nickname you ‘full-course meal’.”

Weaver blinks. Then laughs. “Aw, that’s adorable. I’ve never been a full-course meal before. Does that include a cheese tray?”

Dee growls again.

“She says yes,” Frenchy replies, “but it’s all brains. No crackers.”

Weaver gulps.

At this point, he shifts his bar stool slightly further from Dee. “Is this, like, a compliment in zombie terms? Or should I be worried?”

Dee growls again.

“Well,” Frenchy declares, “she just revised your title. You’re now going to be known as ‘dessert’ because you should be saved for last and savored.”

Weaver’s eyes widen. “Why does that sound worse?!”

Frenchy shrugs. “Honestly, I think it’s her way of flirting.”

Dee growls again.

“And she says that she believes your are very sweet… like a an apple pie à la mode” says Frenchy with a concerned look.

Weaver chuckles nervously, then leans in. “Frenchy, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, Charmy dating a zombie? Isn’t that a little… um… necrotic?”

Frenchy sips her cappuccino with a thoughtful sigh. “I mean, he’s dated worse. There was that mime who only communicated in bird calls. And don’t get me started on the narcoleptic acrobat.”

Weaver laughs. “True. But Dee seems a little bitey.”

As if on cue, Dee leans forward and growls, “Auuughhhhhh…”

“She says your fingers look delicious,” Frenchy translates with an overly friendly smile.

Weaver immediately sits on his hands. “Okay, I think I’ll be drinking my coffee from way over there… with a straw so I can continue sitting on my digits.”

As Weaver scoots away faster than you’d expect from a guy fleeing a charging rhino, Frenchy turns back to Dee and grins.

“You know,” she says, “you’ve now officially scared off Flimp and Weaver. That’s gotta be some kind of record.”

Dee groans again.

“Oh, that’s just because you’re warming up,” Frenchy says.

Another groan.

“You’re right, I probably should tell Charmy about this.”

Dee’s eyes narrow ever so slightly.

“You know… the whole ‘calling his friends food’ thing. It might come off… poorly. He gets weird about stuff like that. Especially since he saw that documentary on zombie etiquette.”

Dee crosses her arms and groans again.

“No, I’m not judging,” Frenchy says with a wave. “I’m just saying, if you’re gonna date a wise-cracking ant, you might wanna tone down the ‘I wanna eat your friends’ vibes.”

Dee slumps back in her seat and mutters another deep zombie grumble.

“See?” Frenchy says, patting her arm. “This is why girl talk is important. You’re doing great. Just maybe next time, compliment Flimp’s eyes without mentioning how tender they look.”

Dee grunts softly.

Frenchy smiles. “You’re welcome. Now, how about another cappuccino—extra foam, hold the femur?”

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To be continued…

(Next week: Frenchy confronts Charmy in the meadow to warn him of her nightmarish concerns.)

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