The Lost Episodes Part 1 – Zombie ‘Za

Have a slice!

This is the only episode of Zombie Radio Show that was written, cast, rehearsed, but never performed or broadcast. Heh… Funny story…

We had a taping scheduled at our regular podcast place, and as was now our routine, we met at 5:00 at James and Dallas’ house in Hollywood to pass out the scripts, read it all through, take final notes, and pile into Dallas’ van  t half mile or so to the studio, in a seedy area along the “Walk of Fame”– right near Kyra Sedgewick’s star, in fact. The building is locked against the barbarian hordes (or zombie hordes?) and we had to call once we arrived to get them to buzz us in. There was no answer, on either of the managing partners’ cell phones. No one buzzed us in, as the clock ticked towards, then past, our scheduled podcast time.

Finally, we heard from one of the partners. He was in Montreal. He’d been on the phone all day with lawyers. The company was closed, due to hinted at irregularities. There would be no more podcasts for the foreseeable future.

I was bummed– not only was I jazzed about the show, but I had gotten all ambitious with a music cue and was eager to see how it worked. This was for the “Papa Pep-oroni’s” spots. I found some peppy Italian music ala “Moonstruck” and was looking to try my hand. I think everyone else was disappointed– except for Joe Ochman, who knew that something was gonna get screwed up, and was feeling vindicated that he had been proven right so spectacularly.

We went out afterwards to a trendy comfort-food joint– kinda like a high-end Bob’s Big Boy with liquor– and ate and drank in celebration of the end of the ZRS run. We didn’t know when we’d be taping again. Turned out to be about early the following year. But when we started up again, it would be without Georgia and Joe. This was to be their last session, which never happened. They are incredibly talented, fun and smart people, and I’m thrilled that I got the chance to write for them and work with them.

Here’s the script thy didn’t read that night. Enjoy!

WZMB Jazz at Three – Ep. 205 “Zombie ‘Za” (Pino Presti)

Announcer: The following is a pirated broadcast from zombie-infested New York City.

(jazz theme)

Jimmy: Heyyy, all you Jazz Fans out there in the night. This is Jimmy Rudolph, coming at you live, not undead but live, from WZMB Jazz at Three. Broadcasting from the historic Tribeca Studios in beautiful downtown New York City, the greatest city in the world.

I think we’ve proven that in the past, but New York has never been greater than she is the greatest now. It’s not every city that could shake off an invasion by Satan himself, but New York has that can-do, oh-no-you-didn’t spirit, and we’ve sent the red guy packin’.

J-Bo: What are we gonna call Hell’s Kitchen now? Hitler’s Kitchen is in bad taste, and Hussein’s kitchen is just stupid.

Jimmy: My track player and protective layer Jamie Bogart, fans. J-Bo, since zombies were so instrumental in chasing off the Great Beast, don’t you feel bad for killing so many of them?

J-Bo: Pretty bad—but you should see the other guy.

Jimmy: See that, folks? That’s resilience. And New York has more resilience than we have bagel holes, manholes and potholes put together.

J-Bo: You left a hole out.

Jimmy: People said the City would never be the same, that the traditions that made New York New York, New York New York were dead. But those traditions are crawling from the grave and racing around with preternatural endurance and strength, much like the zombies that threatened them in the first place. For instance, pizza delivery.

J-Bo: Pizza delivery?!

Jimmy: There was a time, Jazz Fans, when pizza delivery service was too dangerous to continue.

J-Bo: Yeah, and that time is now.

Jimmy: A time when delivery guys were being devoured faster than a stuffed crust large Sicilian.

J-Bo: Many of the delivery guys were stuffed crust large Sicilians.

Jimmy: But with new weaponry and awareness training, pizza delivery is back. In fact—(phone dialing)

J-Bo: Jimmy, who are you calling—

Jimmy: Hello, Papa PEP-oroni’s? I’d like a pizza delivery—

J-Bo: Jimmy, no! The smell of the ‘za attracts the Zs.

Jimmy: A large with sausage, peppers and mushrooms—

J-Bo: Jimmy, you are dooming the delivery guy to a cruel, painful death and possible zombification, just to order a pizza you’ll probably never get.

Jimmy: You want anything, J-Bo?

J-Bo: Cheese sticks and marinara.

Jimmy: Cheese sticks and marinara. Put it on my tab. Thirty minutes guaranteed? Great! See you then!(click) See that, J-Bo? No more sucking down canned goods with your Barolo. You can get a nice, hot pizza delivered right to your door again, just like the good ol’ days. And that Papa PEP-oroni, he makes a great homemade marinara sauce—

J-Bo: Oh, my God. It’s a new sponsor. Is Papa Pepperoni our new sponsor?

Jimmy: Well… a little. And it’s Papa PEP-oroni. Pep, like fast.

He's colder than the pizza.

J-Bo: Look, Jimmy, I beg of you—call off the ‘za. You’re gonna get the delivery guy killed. I know it’s hard for you, but a man’s life is at stake. Not only that, but your listeners are going to think that it’s safe to order pizza deliveries, and they’re gonna die, too. That means no more listeners. Try to see past the short term greed and keep an eye on the greater good. We have a Spam tin and a can of olives, we can make our own pizza. Please, Jimmy. Think about doing the right thing.

Jimmy: I’ll tell you what, J-Bo. I’ll think about it. But first, a word from our sponsor!

Papa: (Italian Music) ‘eyyyyy! It’s Papa PEP- oroni! You wanna the pizza? We gotta the pizza! We gotta the original New York pizza, dripping with cheese. We gotta the meat, we gotta the veggies, we gotta the spices, you gotta love the Papa PEP-oroni’s! You wanna eat in, you wanna take out, we gotta the pizza! You wanna delivery?… We gotta delivery! Trained delivery professionals, they bring it to your door, for justa fifty credit service charge. They killa the zombies, they bringa the pizza, right to your door. Papa PEP-oronis, she’s-a fast! You wanta the guarantee?… We gotta the guarantee! Thirty minutes or your money back! What more-a you want? New York Pizza, delivered hot, right to your door, you gotta the problem with that? If you gotta problem with that, I thinka you the problem, my friend! No, you!

Announcer: Papa PEP! Oroni’s! Pizza with everything… but zombies! Pizza delivery is back!

Papa: No, you gotta the problem! Bah fongoo! (End music.)

Jimmy: Mm-mm, I can hardly wait ‘till the ‘za gets here.

J-Bo: Tell me you at least thought about it.

Jimmy: Thought about the cheese, the sauce, the spices? You’re damn right I did. Here’s a little jazz, fans, while I get a napkin to wipe off the drool. Pino Presti, with the works!

(jazz)

Jimmy: Presti, Pino! We’ll serve you up another slice of that, but first, here’s a quick news update—Six were injured at La Guardia airport when a Southwest plane lost its landing gear prior to touchdown. It could have been a full scale disaster, but the fast-thinking flight crews acted quickly and spread a quarter-inch layer of brains across the runway. The sweetmeats soon attracted a flash mob of zombies, which acted as a nice squishy buffer for the disabled jet to crash-land upon. See that, J-Bo? The enterprising spirit is alive and well in New York City. In related news—fourteen passengers were killed in a non-airline related incident, when they disembarked from the Southwest plane and were set upon by surviving zombies.

J-Bo: They were the in-flight meal.

Jimmy: We all remember last week’s massacre up in Harlem, when, protesting the Zimmerman verdict, 157 unarmed activists were gunned down by the NYPD. To be fair, the police were well within their rights—they all claimed to feel threatened by the protestors, who were promising to “Overcome some day.” Yet, the controversy remains, for some reason. So with us today to discuss the NYPD’s actions is Sgt. Lusitania Cowbella, press liason for the police department. Ms. Cowbella, it’s a pleasure to have you on the show.

Lucy: Was that a threat?

Jimmy: No.

Lucy: Because it sounded threatening.

Jimmy: Apologies. So, the NYPD is being sued by the families of the 157 dead protestors. How is the department responding to this litigation?

Lucy: Listen, we were threatened. They had us outnumbered 157 to 142, they were chanting, shaking their fists, you could see the anger in their eyes, and there was nothing standing in between us and them except for our riot gear, mace, truncheons, tasers and semi-automatic weapons. I mean, there were some Blackhawk helis, but they were yards away. We had to protect ourselves. Protect and Serve, that’s our motto.

J-Bo: Protect and Serve the people of New York.

Lucy: Yes, but you can’t serve the people unless you protect the police. Protecting our officers is the first priority. We believe this lawsuit to be scurrilous and opportunistic. It’s also a little threatening, to be honest. Word to the wise, shysters!

J-Bo: Hey, Cowbella, is it true you took the bodies to the morgue at the police station three days ago?

Lucy: It’s well within procedure. We need their bodies as evidence so that we can skew the reports—I mean, make the reports. Why?

J-Bo: No reason. I’m a huge fan.

Jimmy: Ms. Cowbella, Thanks for coming on the show.

Lucy: Whoa! What the hell is that supposed to mean?! You’re on notice, Rudolph!

Jimmy: Sorry. Take care. (door close) What was that about the morgue, J-Bo?

J-Bo: Those protestor bodies should be turning into zombies any second now, right in the belly of the police station. Looks like the chickens are coming home to roost.

Jimmy: Maybe we should call and warn her?…

J-Bo: Nah.

Jimmy: Yeah, she’d only feel threatened. In traffic, fans, the roads are finally cleared after the disastrous visit last week from the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The disabled cars and corpses have been cleared, and the flies have dispersed. There are still large piles of apocalyptic dung out there on the BQE, however. Each pile contains time-warping properties, so it tends to slow down traffic going West Bound, and speed up the East Bound lanes. Either way, it’s messy, so give yourself some extra time to get to work—like about two years—until road crews clean it all up.

J-Bo: They’re getting paid by the millennium.

Jimmy: In weather, the heat wave has finally broken, with some rain expected and temperatures dropping to a manageable 80 degrees. This is terrible news, as it makes the conditions optimal for zombie attacks, without snow to slow them down, heat to decompose them, or driving rain to shear the flesh from their bones. So be sure to include the machete in your picnic lunch, and sharpen the points on your umbrella.

Or, just stay in, and get your pizza delivered! Here’s a quick word from our newest sponsor!

Hey, you said "with everything."

Papa: (Italian Music) Eyyyyyy, it’s Papa PEP! Oroni! You wanna the special? We gotta the special! Getta the two large pies, delivered hot right to your door in thirty minutes guaranteed, and we give-a you the base-a-ball bat, absolutely free. Louisville Slugger, all wood, perfect for bashing ina the zombie head. Thata way, you can’ta complain when we show up with a you pizzas, and you gotta fight off a coupla zombies to get the door closed. ‘Course, ita leaves Giuseppi the delivery boy without a bat to get home with, but whatever, you gotta your pizza. Your two pizza. We ain’t making that trip for one friggin’ pizza. What kinda skinflint makes us bust our nut for one lousy pizza? Takin’ on zombies for the tip on one lousy pizza? And you probably ain’t even gonna tip if you’re only ordering a pizza! Friggin’ no class deadbeat.

Announcer: Papa PEP! Oroni’s! Pizza with everything… including a baseball bat! Pizza delivery is back!

Papa: And it ain’t about the money! I could wipe my ass with your money. Ah, Bah fongoo! (End music)

Jimmy: Ah, that ‘zas gonna taste goooood.

J-Bo: That’s what the zombies are saying about Giuseppi.

Jimmy: Now for a second slice of Pino Presti. Enjoy…

(jazz)

Jimmy: Fans, New York City is finding her feet after being roofied by the Zombie Apocalypse. But not everyone is thrilled with our return to normalcy. Some people think we should cower in the emptied hulks of our condos and apartments, eat canned goods amongst our own filth, and just cede civilization to the forces of evil.

Ralph: I don’t think that’s a fair characterization—

Jimmy: Not yet, I haven’t finished introducing you. Well, with me now is one such kill joy, the Vice President of the consumer rights advocacy group “Buy Right,” Mr. Ralph Tesco. Mr. Tesco, thanks for coming on our radio show.

Ralph: Thank you, Jimmy—

Jimmy: I mean, it’s okay for people to listen to the radio, right? They don’t have to just squat, grunt and make cave drawings, right?

Ralph: Of course not, Jimmy. We’re not against people enjoying themselves. But we’re seeing an unsettling trend in New York, with advertisers assuring consumers that the old behaviors are perfectly safe, when they’re not.

Jimmy: For instance?

Ralph: Well, okay, the studios were promoting their slate of summer films, and they decided to create an East Coast comicon last month at Grand Central Station. They used social media to market the event, claiming it was hyper-exclusive, and that the reports of zombies were planted by celebrities to keep the less dedicated fans away. Well, the event was a success—twenty-thousand people showed up from as far away as Taiwan.

Jimmy: So, you resent success, is that it? What’s the problem?

Ralph: The problem is that the news reports about zombies were not planted by celebrities. They were true. So when twenty-thousand people showed up to catch a glimpse of Robert Downey Jr., the zombies swarmed and attacked. Fifteen thousand people died or became zombies. We still got these Dr. Strange zombies walking around. It’s pathetic.

Jimmy: So a couple of tourists get their brains handed to them. It serves them right for being so gullible. New Yorkers are a little savvier than that, and they should be allowed to make their own lifestyle choices.

Ralph: Okay, there was that “Satan is Gone” farmer’s market at Union Square park two days ago.

J-Bo: That was awesome!

Ralph: Over three hundred people were slaughtered.

J-Bo: I know.

Ralph: They were assured by radio advertisers that the streets were safe now that Satan had submerged into the East River. But 14th and Broadway has some of the greatest zombie densities in the city. Businesses are misleading people that things are back to normal, taking their money, and then letting them die.

Jimmy: So what are advertisers supposed to say? Our product will get you killed? Do you have any idea what that would do to sales?

Ralph: Businesses should be on my side. After all, a living consumer is still a consumer. A dead consumer’s spending tends to drop off a bit.

Jimmy: Well, New York has zombies, that’s just a fact of life. It’s not the job of advertisers to tell people that the streets are dangerous.

Ralph: No, it’s the job of the media. But the media is sponsored by advertisers, and sometimes they soft pedal the dangers involved in these products.

Jimmy: Sir, that’s insulting. We in the media are public servants. We don’t turn a blind eye to our responsibilities for a quick buck.

Ralph: Okay, like pizza delivery.

Jimmy: Look at the time, Jazz Fans-

Ralph: It’s very dangerous! The smell of pizza is like catnip to zombies–

Jimmy: So pizza smells good! What a terrible thing for consumers!

Ralph: Pizza shops are swarm points. Even if they’ve been cleaned, the residue can infect even the hardiest topping.

Jimmy: I’m cutting off your mic!

Ralph: (over Jimmy’s Mic) Delivery people are top of the list for high risk professions, and we open the door to them–

Jimmy: No good, I can still hear him.

J-Bo: He’s right next to you—

Ralph: (over the above) And once we open the door, that’s when the danger really begins, because zombies—

Jimmy: Sir, what’s your point?

Ralph: Stop this ridiculous and insanely dangerous practice! Stop telling people that pizza delivery is safe, or that New York has improved enough to allow—

Jimmy: Stop pizza delivery? How about we just blow up the Empire State Building? How about we stop production of bagels? How about we change the name of New York to Bumpkinville and just call it a day, huh?

Ralph: We just want to keep people alive—

Jimmy: You want to take away from New York everything that makes New York New York. The brash swagger, the soul, the pace—the pizza! Well, I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let happen. I won’t.

Ralph: If you don’t call and cancel your pizza order, everyone in this building will die! Please—

Jimmy: This interview is over! Sir, I must ask you to leave the studio!

Ralph: Everyone, I want you to go to your phones right now—

Jimmy: J-Bo. Didn’t you screen the nut jobs?

J-Bo: Yeah, but you got the job anyway.

Ralph: I want you to go to your phones right in the middle of this sentence, I want you to go to your phones and call the pizza delivery company—

J-Bo: Where do you keep the handcuffs?

Ralph: And I want you to cancel the pizza delivery order now! Cancel the pizza delivery order now! Cancel the pizza delivery order now—(struggle)

Papa: (Italian Music) Eeyyyyyy, it’s Papa PEP! Oroni! Bringin’ you the besta pizza, righta to your door, in 30 minutes guaranteed! I wantcha to meeta my delivery boy, Giuseppi! Say hi to the folks, Giuseppi!

Guiseppi: Don’t make me go.

Papa: He’sa sucha kidder! Giuseppi here, he gonna take-a you pizza, hot out of the oven, and he gonna bring it to you door. All you gotta do is calla me, Papa PEP! Oroni, and eata the pizza whena she get there. People talkin’ say that’s too dangerous. Don’t sound dangerous to me. I don’t see no danger. And maybe there is danger. There’s also delicious homemade sauce, the freshest imported spice, sausage, pepperoni, vegetables, all topped with delicious, hot melted mozzarella cheese. You gonna give all that up for a little danger? Are you a man? I’m sorry. I thought you was a man.

Announcer: Papa PEP! Oroni’s! Pizza’s knocking—Let us in! Pizza delivery is back!

Papa: If you was a man, you woulda done it by now. Ah, bah fongoo!(End Music)

Jimmy: And we’re back, Jazz Fans! We’ve got the studio squared away, we’ve bound and gagged the consumer advocate and thrown him in the closet—

J-Bo: I’m not sure why we didn’t just kick him out.

Jimmy: Because, J-Bo, I want him to see that pizza delivery isn’t the dance with death he claims it is, and after we tip Giuseppi and send him on his way, we can serve him up a slice of pizza with some humble pie.

J-Bo: Or if he’s right, we can serve him up to the zombies.

Jimmy: Folks, since the Zombie Apocalypse, New Yorkers have adapted in new and inspiring ways. Cabs with ejector seats, Zombie Peep shows on 42nd Street, and the Radio City Rockettes Razor Toe Review, to name a few. Today we highlight a new trend, all the kids are doing it, called ‘Za Surfing. Welcome Trace Fleck, homeless teen and ‘Za Surf pioneer. Trace, welcome to the show.

Trace: Can I have this coffee?

Jimmy: Sure. Look, J-Bo, she’s hungry. So Trace, you’re a homeless teen?

Trace: Yeah. My parents got eaten on Day seventeen, and someone told the landlord.

Jimmy: You didn’t have any other family?

Trace: Yeah, I did. My aunt Rose came to get me. That was Day nineteen. Day twenty-one was Aunt Frida and Uncle Ross. My cousins Betty and Angus were Twenty two. Day twenty-three was my social worker. I lost count after that. Can I keep the cup? It would make a nice toilet.

Jimmy: Aww, you poor kid. Sure you can keep the cup. You believe this, J-Bo?

J-Bo: No, I can’t. Your mug makes a terrible toilet. I speak from experience.

Trace: …You can have your coffee back.

Jimmy: She’s just joking, Trace. But, uh, finder’s keepers with the coffee. So what is ‘Za Surfing?

Trace: Well, there was a while there where I had to sell myself for the night to creepy old pervs, just to get a little food, or I’d have to roll some drunk or pick a zombie’s wallet. It was tough out there. But then some company started pizza delivery—

Jimmy: Yeah, we were just talking about that. Isn’t that great?

Trace: Well, it was sure great for me. All these zombies swarming pizza delivery guys and eating their brains, and just leaving the pizza right there on the street! I mean, that pizza’s got all the four food groups. Meat and cheese and bread and meat.

Jimmy: Y’know, Trace, the honest thing to do would have been to take that pizza to the person who paid for it.

Trace: No way! They got insurance for that, don’t they?

Jimmy: No, sweetheart, there’s no insurance for undelivered pizza. The customer is just out his money.

Trace: Whoa. I didn’t know. Maybe selling myself for food wasn’t so bad. It was tough on my immune system, but at least there was some moral clarity.

Jimmy: Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself. Maybe there was no address on the pizza box, or it was covered in blood and gore. Anyway, nothing wrong with eating found food, especially if you’re homeless and hungry.

Trace: Thanks, Mr. Rudolph. I sure don’t want to be robbing people of their pizza money.

Jimmy: All is forgiven. So this ‘Za Surfing, you find abandoned pizzas and give them a home in your belly?

Trace: Well… that’s how it started. But the delivery guys started getting wise. They started surviving, delivering, and pizzas were getting thin on the ground. So, we started making things a little more interesting.

J-Bo: Something tells me I’m gonna like this girl—

Trace: We started smearing the delivery cars with brain juice, just to make sure that the zombies could find ‘em. And we tail the car on our skateboards, until the zombies attack. Then we take off with the pizzas.

Jimmy: Dear God!

J-Bo: I had a feeling I’d like this girl.

Trace: And if the zombies are a little slow to swarm, we let some air out of the tires at the red lights.

Jimmy: You monster!

Trace: Sometimes we find one of those midget zombies, and we toss it in the car.

J-Bo: Ooooo, you do NOT!

Trace: It’s a little slower, ‘cause the midget zombie has to go down the driver’s throat, and it takes a while for it to bust out again, and they may not manage it until all the Zas been delivered. But it’s worth it, ‘cause the explosion is pretty spectacular. Spread out like that, all red and white, the delivery guy actually looks like a pizza.

J-Bo: That is too awesome to believe!

Jimmy: You’re a monster! I can understand eating pizzas you find on the ground, but this is murder!

Trace: What can I say? Life in a dumpster has hardened me.

Jimmy: And your attack on the institution of pizza delivery is an affront to civilization! I want you to stop it, right this minute!

Trace: Hey, I couldn’t stop it if I tried. It’s a trend. All the kids are doing it. We got Za Surfing clubs, with awards for the biggest zombie swarm, closest call, most pizzas and an epic fail category. Everyone’s doing it, man.

Jimmy: If everyone were jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you do that, too?

Trace: The Brooklyn Bridge jump is so last minute.

Jimmy: How are we supposed to come back from anarchy and chaos if little turds like you keep messing with the infrastructure for your own amusement!

J-Bo: And food.

Jimmy: And food! Gimme that cup back!

Trace: Whatever, fascist.

Jimmy: I got a pizza delivery guy coming right now. What if one of your little friends decides to hijack my order, what happens then?

Trace: I heard you got Spam and olives. Lighten up.

Jimmy: Animal! Stinking animal! Trace Fleck, fans, and if you see her on the street begging for food—good. Get the hell out of the studio!

Frank: Take me with you! Take me with you!

Jimmy: J-Bo, put the gag back in… So what do you think?

J-Bo: I think you should call Papa Pepperoni, cancel the delivery and give him back his sponsor money.

Jimmy: Well, that’s not as easy as it sounds—I kinda spent the money.

J-Bo: On what?

Jimmy: I bought shares in Papa Pepperoni’s.

J-Bo: Jimmy, you don’t invest in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. You buy gold, shape it into sharp objects, and kill zombies.

Jimmy: It’s not just the money, J-Bo! I believe in New York, and I believe that New York will come back—once we get some reliable pizza delivery! After that comes Chinese, then Indian, then pretentious filmmakers will come, and run off the zombies.

J-Bo: By asking them to read their screenplays.

Jimmy: Can’t this be the new beginning, or the beginning of the beginning?

J-Bo: Can’t be. This is the middle of the end. Maybe the beginning of the end part of the middle—the popcorn’s gone, Jimmy, is all I know. You’re bringing doom and destruction to the studio, and you promised you wouldn’t do that again. Call off the delivery.

Jimmy: … Okay. (phone rings) Hello?… Pizza?… You’re actually here?… I’ll be right down.

Papa: (Italian music) ‘Eyyyyy, it’sa me, Papa PEP! Oroni. And I wantchoo should meeta the wife.

Wife: ‘Eyyyyyy!

Papa: ‘Eyyyyyy! She been inna kitchen all day, puttin’ inna the spice, the wine, the tomato, all to make-a the gravy for your pizza!

Wife: ‘Eyyyy! We gotta the oregano, we gotta the garlic, we gotta the basil, we gotta the cumin—

Papa: ‘Eyyyyy, I tolla you, no cumin!

Wife: You make-a the dough, I make-a the sauce, get outta my kitchen—

Papa: You beena messin’ with that Puerto Rican again—

Wife: ‘Eyyyyy! We justa trade recipes!

Papa: Eyyyy! She’s a been workin’ in that kitchen all day with that Puerto Rican, getting’ all sweaty over the hot stove, changing her underwear three times to make-a the gravy for the pizza—

Wife: ‘Eyyyy, they don’t need to know about my underwear!

Papa: ‘Eyyyyy! I’m doin’a commercial! She make-a all this food for you, and you gonna eat it. So you get on the phone and calla the Papa PEP-oroni, and eat what Mama put in fronta you—All day inna the kitchen, and you only got a quarta sauce?

Wife: ‘Eyyyy, we been reading his screenplay!

Papa: ‘Eyyyy, I’ll screenplay him! I’ll give him a rewrite he never saw coming!

Announcer: Announcer: Papa PEP! Oroni’s! See what Mama’s got cookin’! Pizza delivery is back!

Papa: Even the announcer knows you a whoo-er!

Wife: Bah fongooo!

Papa: Bah fongooo! (End music)

Jimmy: Well, that wasn’t so bad.

J-Bo: (panting) That one with the roaches in his mouth almost had me. I thought he really had my number.

Jimmy: Well, look on the bright side, J-Bo— the building is secure, we’re safe, and there are fifteen fewer zombies to worry about.

J-Bo: I don’t know—I left the pile of corpses just below the air vent…

Jimmy: Ah, it’ll be fine. And fans, please welcome to the studio Giuseppi Pepperoni, the delivery guy for Papa Pepperoni Pizza.

Giuseppi: Thanks. You were awesome out there.

Jimmy: Thank you.

Giuseppi: I was talking to the munchkin.

J-Bo: Thanks. If you really want to thank me, hand over those cheese sticks.

Jimmy: Giuseppi, you’re just in time for my man on the street interview—

Giuseppi: No, I don’t wanna go back out there! Can’t we do it in here?

Jimmy: Sure. So, first off, you deserve the thanks of a grateful city for bringing civilization back to the streets of New York. Thank you.

J-Bo: In Jimmy’s world, that counts as a tip.

Jimmy: There’s been a lot of talk about how dangerous your job is, but here you are, with a hot pizza—well, warm. Ish.

Giuseppi: I have a warmer in my bag. I’ll put the pizza in, once the adrenalin shakes calm down.

Jimmy: What’s the craziest delivery story you have?

Giuseppi: This one was pretty nuts. I never seen ‘em swarm like that.

Jimmy: Are the ‘Za Surfers a problem, and have you ever run one over? If not, would you? I have a name…

Giuseppi: I don’t know, I don’t know!… Could I curl up next to the tied up guy? I don’t feel so good.

J-Bo: Jimmy..

Jimmy: How many more deliveries do you have tonight?

Giuseppi: I got a run out to Staten Island later.

Jimmy: Staten Island? They’re all zombies on Staten Island.

Giuseppi: That’s what I told Dad. I think it was a prank call from my ex-girlfriend, but Dad says I gotta check it out. Oh, my stomach–

Jimmy: Eatin’ a little too much of the stock, huh?

J-Bo: Jimmy, you may want to step away—

Jimmy: Wow, he’s shaking really bad.

J-Bo: Security, get into Studio B!

(sounds of a body exploding)

Jimmy: Wow. Look at all that sauce!

J-Bo: Midget zombies. One of them must have gotten inside.

Jimmy: He does look like a pizza! What’s that crawling out of his lung?

J-Bo: Close your mouth, Jimmy! That’s how they get inside.

Jimmy: Mmmm-hhmmm-mmm-hhhmmmm!

J-Bo; I’m trying, but he hid behind your scotch collection!

Jimmy: Mmmm-hhmmmmm-mmmmmbrmmm.

J-Bo: Okay, I think I got him trapped— (alarm) Oh, no—the zombies found the air duct!

Jimmy: mmmm-hmmmm-mmmmhrmmm-mmmmgrm

J-Bo: Security’s down, security’s down—

Jimmy: mmmm-hmmm-mmmm-hmmm

J-Bo: Feed ‘em the consumer advocate.

Jimmy: Mmmmmmm-hhmmmmm-mmmmmm

Ralph: Mmmmm-hmmmmm-mmmmmm

Jimmy: Mmmm

Ralph: MMMMMMMMMMM-HHHHHHMMMMM! (zombie shlurping)

J-Bo: That bought us some time, but we still have to find the midget zombie and clear out the vents—No! They’re at the door! You and your stupid pizza-

Papa: (Italian Music) ‘eyyyyy! It’s Papa PEP- oroni! You wanna the pizza? We gotta the pizza! We gotta the original New York pizza, dripping with cheese. We gotta the meat, we gotta the veggies, we gotta the spices, you gotta love the Papa PEP-oroni’s! You wanna eat—

Jimmy: And, we’re back, Jazz Fans.

J-Bo: Some of us.

Jimmy: We had a minor incident here at WZMB that left two dead, four maimed, and fifteen missing, believed digested. On top of that, Giuseppi is no more, and Ralph Tesco has made the ultimate sacrifice for the rights of consumers.

J-Bo: It’s gonna be hard to get guests on for the show next week. The survival rate is so low.

Jimmy: But at least we got ourselves some pizza, delivered to the door. They said it couldn’t be done, and dammit, we done it. And now we’re gonna enjoy the sacrifice that others have made, and sit back with a slice of delicious, tasty, Papa Pepperoni’s Pizza.

(chewing)

Jimmy: That is disgusting!

J-Bo: The cheese is like cardboard.

Jimmy: And the sauce… is that cumin?

J-Bo: Didn’t you taste the goods before you invested in it?

Jimmy: Don’t talk… Gorge rising…

J-Bo: Those aren’t green peppers! They’re zombie meat.

Jimmy: You’re kidding me—

J-Bo: Look, they’re still wriggling. Great! Now I have to kill the pizza!

Jimmy: At least it was convenient.

J-Bo: Zombies are always convenient.

Jimmy: J-Bo, it was pizza! Delivery! It’s like saying you can walk through the park again, or it’s safe to pick up trannies in the meat packing district.

J-Bo: Jimmy, we’ll get there. One day, New York City will be safe to walk the streets again. But saying its safe doesn’t make it safe. Let’s not rush things. No more pizza delivery for awhile. Seriously.

Jimmy: I think I’m off pizza for the next few years. Well, Jazz Fans, we tried to live a normal life—and we almost made it. I guess the zombies are gonna continue to be a problem, so long as their necks hold out. But long after the zombies have outlived their radioactive half-lives, we’ll still be here. The longing for pizza will return, the deliveries will follow, and everything will be back to normal. Until then? We still have Jazz. Put on a little Pino Presti…

J-Bo: Really loud, so it drowns out the screams of the dying.

Jimmy: And you can almost forget there’s a zombie apocalypse out there. So if you want normalcy, just tune on in to WZMB, and don’t order pizza. The Spam and olives will do you just fine. This has been WZMB Jazz at Three, with your old pal Jimmy Rudolph,

J-Bo: And Jamie Bogart.

Jimmy: We’ll see you next week!

J-Bo: With a new sponsor.

Announcer: Zombie Radio Show will be back next Thursday at 7:00 pm PST on Radio Titans! Radio titans dot com. Find more zombie radio show at zombie radio show dot com. Follow zombie radio show on twitter, facebook and you tube. Aghhh!

Announcer 2: Brains.

Jimmy:(off mike)Hey, J-Bo, you hungry? Let’s order up a little Chinese!

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The Lost Episodes Part 2 – Everybody Hurts

"Don't Press That Button!"

WZMB is experiencing some technical difficulties...

This one was a real heart breaker, because we actually recorded it. James was there, and Angelle, as well as the brilliant and talented Mr. David Pinion. In this particular episode, we gave him eight different characters to do, including Clarence from “It’s A Wonderful Life” and Peyton Manning– and he nailed every single character! It was a sight to hear. Unfortunately, the podcasting company was dealing with technical glitches, and we wound up with a mic that recorded at a much lower level– and it was James’ mike. The episode was beyond salvage, and it has since been deleted into oblivion.

We dealt with some topical humor. It was just after the Superbowl, hosted by NYC (or New Jersey, if you want to get all technical) between Denver and Seattle. After an incredible build up promising a clash between the perfect offense and the perfect defense, Denver lost spectacularly. I couldn’t resist having a depressed Peyton Manning on the show. (David Pinion’s Manning impersonation was a revelation!)

Here is the script below, for those of you with sufficient attention spans to read it. The highlight for me is the climax of the episode, where Clarence comes to comfort Jimmy. You’d think I hate Capra. I don’t. I’m just very sick and twisted. Enjoy!

WZMB Jazz at Three – Ep. 206 “Everybody Hurts” (Memphis Slim)

Section 1 Intro

Announcer: The following is a pirated broadcast from zombie-infested New York City.

(jazz theme)

Jimmy: Heyyy, all you Jazz Fans out there in the night. This is Jimmy Rudolph, coming at you live, not undead but live, from WZMB Jazz at Three. Broadcasting from the historic Tribeca Studios in beautiful downtown New York City, the greatest city in the world.

And, we’re back… Again. For those of you that missed us, WZMB was forced to shut down temporarily after a little water cooler incident—unbelievable, really.

J-Bo: Almost as unbelievable as somebody missing WZMB.

Jimmy: My zombie head lopper and spirit stomper Miss Jamie Bogart folks. Now you wouldn’t think a little thing like a water cooler could stop a radio station from broadcasting—

J-Bo: When lack of listenership couldn’t.

Jimmy: But you’d be wrong. The Bubblettes water company decided to cut corners on its anti-zombie filtration system and wouldn’t you know it, a zombie got in there.

J-Bo: A fresh mountain spring zombie.

Jimmy: The thing about a zombie being immersed for a while—they’re slippery. And by the time we got the zombie cornered and uncorked, we’d lost the studio president, vice-president, CEO, CFO, the BOD, DJ Frankie Teller, the morning Zoo Crew, the Lunch Bunch, the Drive Time players, and Don Imus.

J-Bo: I thought that man would run forever. Turns out he got winded after thirty feet.

Jimmy: Ironically, J-Bo and I were doing a remote at the time on the miracle of the Bubblettes filtration system.

J-Bo: The show’s gonna air all week, during the Imus time slot.

Jimmy: So until we get a new Board of Directors up and breathing, there’s been a hiring freeze here at the station. And since J-Bo and I were the “soul” survivors…

J-Bo: Oh, my God…

Jimmy: We’re running the show all by ourselves here at WZMB.

J-Bo: Except I do all the running.

Jimmy: You expect me to run in these?

J-Bo: You never wore those before. And how did you find six inch stilettos in your size?

Jimmy: My point, Jazz Fans—

J-Bo: And he’s got three of them…

Jimmy: Is that things are hard out there for a DJ. It’s not easy, broadcasting this show—

J-Bo: It’s easier than listening to it.

Jimmy: But we do it, just like we do it, every day, all night, we pull it together and take it on the road, for you, Jazz Fans, all for you. When the going gets rough, the rough gets going. Resilience. That’s the theme of today’s show. And we want to hear from you, folks. Tell us how you’ve overcome some struggle. Lines are open, so call in now.

(Long pause.)

J-Bo: Where’s the cricket when you need him?

Jimmy: Obviously, folks are too busy resilienting. And if there’s ever been music that expresses resilience, it’s… jazz. So let me play you a little Memphis Slim while I pours myself a little scotch. You see, I have to pour myself the scotch now, instead of just tilting back my head and opening my mouth. I have to use a tumbler and everything… but that’s what resilience is all about… J-Bo? This scotch-holding glass thing is empty.

J-Bo: That’s a bottle, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Thanks, Sister Catherine, but where’s the scotch?

J-Bo: I guess we’re out.

Jimmy: … We’re…

J-Bo: We’re out. Turns out you drink more when you pour it yourself.

Jimmy: Okay, well how about you send out an intern to hop over to the scotch-holding glass store and pick me up another couple gallons of this brown life-giving elixir?

J-Bo: No interns, Jimmy.

Jimmy: No interns? Then who was I harassing in the john?

J-Bo: Uh… that would be the mirror? The hiring freeze means no interns.

Jimmy: We have to hire them? Why? We don’t have to pay them! Nevermind, you go.

J-Bo: We’re in the middle of a show, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Well, how long would it take?

J-Bo: An hour at least. I have to strap on the leather, sharpen the machete, refill the napalm gun, put on some mascara—you never know who you’ll run into—

Jimmy: An hour, fine. I’ll put on a Miles Davis song.

J-Bo: That’s if there’s a place open at this hour. 24 hour liquor stores aren’t as popular as they used to be. The despair draws the zombies.

Jimmy: So break in! This is an emergency!

J-Bo: If I leave, Jimmy, I won’t be able to lock the door. All the keys were lost in the Bubblettes melee. The zombies would find you, in your stiletto heels. By the time I got back, you’d be zombie skat. Sorry, but you’ll just have to do without.

Backstage at Zombie Radio Show

Jimmy Rudolph, ready to roll...

Jimmy:… I can’t take it anymore! I’m done!

J-Bo: What?!

Jimmy: How much do they expect us to take?! We’re not animals!

J-Bo: You are if there’s free shrimp.

Jimmy: I have tried, I have given it my all, to stay alive and stay human in this zombie-clogged cesspool, to keep civilization going, but I can’t… DO IT… Anymore! Zombies! You win! You won’t have Jimmy Rudolph to kick around anymore, ‘cause I’m going to just let you eat me.

J-Bo: They’ll probably kick you around first. Easier to open the skull that way.

Jimmy: In fact, this is my last show, folks! I’m going to finish this show, and at the end, I’m going to blow my brains out, right here on the air!

J-Bo: Uh, Jimmy? We’re out of bullets.

Jimmy:… This is too depressing for words.

J-Bo: Jimmy, what happened to resilience? When things get tough—

Jimmy: The tough get things! Like scotch!

J-Bo: Y’know, we’ve got, like, a vat of vodka.

Jimmy: (hopefully) Is there orange juice?

J-Bo: No.

Jimmy: Game over! Game over! Ahuh-huh-huh- (clatter)

J-Bo: Jimmy? Jimmy! Uh… here’s some Memphis Slim, folks.

(jazz)

J-Bo: And we’re back… And we’re back…

Jimmy: And we’re back, whatever.

J-Bo: Jimmy, read the news. Maybe there’ll be an item that’ll cheer you up.

Jimmy: Yeah, sure. And now the news. The snow storm pelting New York City has turned to icy rain and sleet, making for dangerous conditions on the street. On the plus side, zombies have been rendered practically harmless, as they are too uncoordinated to negotiate the slippery terrain, and wind up prone and unable to rise to their feet.

J-Bo: There you go. See? That’s funny.

Jimmy: Department of Health reports the death of fifteen teenagers shoveling driveways in Brooklyn, who mistook prone zombies for snow banks.

J-Bo: Okay, maybe not funny ha-ha.

Jimmy: A salt shortage has forced New York to spread ground-up zombies on the streets. The salt content of the necrotic flesh, mixed with its radioactivity, has proven effective in melting ice and sleet.

J-Bo: There you go, using zombies to make life a little safer…

Jimmy: Sudden spikes in infection rates of pre-school children have ignited the city’s new “Don’t eat the green snow” campaign.

J-Bo: Okay, now that’s funny.

Jimmy: In national news, Bubblettes Water has lobbied Congress to declare zombies a green vegetable, making their zombified water legal.

J-Bo: And healthy!

Jimmy: So kids can’t eat green snow, but they can eat zombified pizza for school lunch?! What are we doing here, J-Bo?

J-Bo: Let’s check traffic with the Sky Pirate Sekowski.

Sekowski: Hey, New York, things should be looking good on the BQE, now that the zombie salt has melted the ice. Unfortunately, it’s also melted the road, with the shoulder and outer lanes completely gone and the other lanes getting thinner by the minute, so avoid the BQE if your car’s not pretty narrow. Traffic is brought to you by Bubblette’s Water. The water with that healthy glow! Back to you, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Thanks, Sky Pirate. Wish I were a chopper traffic reporter.

Sekowski: Beats working for a living, Jimmy. Once you get past the zombies on the helipad, it’s clear sailing—especially with these self-cleaning rotors, the zombie guts don’t cake on the blades like they used to. You can fly with peace of mind, until it’s time to land.

Jimmy: And when you feel suicidal, you don’t need bullets.

Sekowski: Hey! You got a point there, partner! I could even take out a few brain parasites, just nose this baby into a zombie swarm or a movie premiere. Thanks, Jimmy. You’ve made the coward’s way out seem downright attractive. Hey, good luck with your thing. This is Sky Pirate Sekowski signing off!

J-Bo: Jimmy! Did you just talk Sky Pirate into suicide? Who’s gonna airlift us out of here during the next swarm?

Jimmy: You never take the airlift option, anyway.

J-Bo: And miss a good bloodbath? No way. But what about you?

Jimmy: You think I’ll change my mind about ending it all? Find a reason for existing?

J-Bo: No, but I think you’ll chicken out. Look, it’s time for the sports profile. You like sports.

Jimmy: Sports?

J-Bo: The stuff going on just behind the cheerleaders.

Jimmy: Oh, yeah, I like sports.

J-Bo: So do the sports profile. Introduce the guest.

Jimmy: Okay. Uh, folks, this last weekend, New York was the proud host of Superbowl 48, pitting the number one defense, the Seattle Seahawks, against the number one offense, the Denver Broncos, anchored by my guest, Denver QB cutie, Peyton Manning. Peyton, congratulations on making it to the Superbowl!

Manning: Uh, thanks.

Jimmy: It must be awesome for a guy as young as you to be playing at the top of your profession.

Manning:… Did you see the game?

Jimmy: Oh, yeah. Nice cheerleaders. You dating any of them?

Manning: Not anymore.

David Pinion and Angelle Gullett Backstage at WZMB

David and Angelle in Studio

Jimmy: Zombies haven’t infiltrated Denver yet—it’s taking them a while to climb that mile. Did the zombies have any effect on your game preparation?

Manning: Look, I don’t want to make excuses. True, the zombies were a little unsettling. And when they ate our offensive coordinator– that took us by surprise. The blood-slick football was hard to get used to, and the screaming from the bench kept throwing off our rhythm. The Seattle fans are famous for screaming the loudest when being eaten. But I don’t want to make excuses. Seattle was a hell of a team.

Jimmy: Wait… you lost?

Manning: … Yes.

Jimmy: I’m sure it was a nail-biter, though.

Manning: Not really.

Jimmy: What was the score?

Manning: 43-8, plus seven Broncos killed against the Seahawks two. They’re a fast team.

Jimmy: But your cheerleaders looked so happy. J-Bo, what are we doing interviewing losers?

J-Bo: Jimmy, be nice. Russell Wilson beat it out of here like a scared bitch the second the TV cameras shut off. He didn’t even shower. Peyton Manning braved the zombies for the last four days to stay here for this interview.

Jimmy: Yeah, because he can’t show his face in Denver.

Manning: Hey, I am a five time NFL MVP! I’ve won eight division championships, two AFC titles. I’ve been in thirteen Probowls, and I’ve won a Superbowl, pal! Not this one, but, y’know, one.

J-Bo: That’s almost as many as your little brother.

Manning: Okay, you know what?… You’re right. The fact is, I deserve this crumbling zombie-infested city. All that work, the incredible season, and we walk into the biggest humiliation of my career. Why even bother? That’s why I’m staying in New York. The zombies! I’m waiting for them to eat me. I walk around with my brains on my sleeve, hoping for deliverance from the shame. But even the zombies don’t want me. I’ve shaved my head, put on some skull softener. Nothing.

Jimmy: That’s tough, Peyton. You want some scotch.

Manning: Yeah, Jimmy, I could really use some scotch.

Jimmy: So could I. (They both weep.)

J-Bo: Ugh. We’ll be right back.

(jazz)

Announcer: Ah! Bubblette! We’ve always been the name you trust in water. Now we’ve got the trust you can see! You can see right through the other waters. Bubblette water isn’t afraid to show its true color. And that color is green. Like a clear meadow, a nutritious salad, a sparkling sea, that’s green, Bubblette water has a color from the rainbow. It also has the USDA seal of approval with a full helping of vegetables in every sip. (USDA approval pending.) Plus, Bubblette water always comes warm, no matter how cold it is outside. Enjoy fresh, sparkling refreshing Bubblette water, and take a bite out of your thirst. (Bubblette water may soften teeth.)

Jimmy: Great! Now my teeth are softening. Zombies bite me, and I can’t even bite back.

J-Bo: So don’t drink it, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Nothing else to drink in this dump. Well, fans, J-Bo’s trying to cheer me up, but to paraphrase the great Cole Porter, life is just too darn hard.

J-Bo: Life’s not that hard, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Not for you, maybe. You live in the slums, fighting off zombies in your sleep, while I, down in the DeNiro bunker, insulated from the base struggle between life and death, I have the time to contemplate the burden of existence.

J-Bo: I guess I should thank you for kicking me out on the streets and never putting me up on your couch.

Jimmy: And so I’ve decided that after this show, I’ll put an end to this business called my life.

J-Bo: That’s taking the easy way out.

Jimmy: Easy? No knives, no bullets, no rope, no windows to leap out of… this is gonna take some doing.

J-Bo: You could walk to the liquor store and let the zombies eat you on the way.

Jimmy: In these heels? If I wanted torture, I’d play show tunes.

(phone ring)

J-Bo: Hey, Jimmy! Listen to that! The phone’s ringing! You know what that means! Not only is someone listening to the show, but they have a resilience story for you.

Jimmy: This oughtta be good for a laugh. Hello, Jimmy Rudolph, WZMB, talk to me.

Steve: Jimmy, you really gonna kill yourself?

Jimmy: Well, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.

Steve: Y’know what you could do? Take the shoes off and shoot the stiletto heels through your eyes into your brain.

Jimmy: Huh. Hadn’t thought of that…

Steve: You could even set the spikes on fire before you press them into your eyes. Use the vodka as an accelerant, and just woosh! Then when you run around the room in blind agony, set up chairs so that you’ll trip all the time, and drive the heels further into your…

Jimmy: Okay, thanks for calling in. (click) He really gave that some thought.

J-Bo: (laughing) Yeah.

Jimmy: Well, any other heart-warming tales of resilience, call ‘em in. In the meantime, here’s a little more Memphis Slim.

(jazz)

Announcer: Profiles! In! Courage!

Jimmy: What the heck was that?!

J-Bo: That’s our “Profiles in Courage” lead in. We spent top dollar on that. It was your idea!

Jimmy: We coulda spent that money on bullets, and I wouldn’t be taking calls from sickos with a fetish for my eyes.

J-Bo: Just introduce the guest, Jimmy. This is the kind of cornball thing you like.

Jimmy: Okay, let’s see here… Cooper here is a twelve year old boy who has always wanted to be a zombie kill squad member. But an unfortunate accident with a bear trap lost him his right arm. But with the help of prosthetics, a kickstarter account and an MIT class project, it looks like Cooper will be hunting zombies after all. Please welcome Cooper Schmidt.

Cooper: Awright! Awright! Hey, Mister Rudolph!

Jimmy: Pretty excited to be on the show, eh, Cooper?

Cooper: Gosh, yeah!

Jimmy: Well, that excitement will pass. All excitement. All zest for life—

J-Bo: Jimmy!

Cooper: Hey, Miss Bogart!

Jimmy: You know J-Bo, Cooper?

Cooper: Do I? She’s the greatest ever! I have her fold out in Zombie Chicks! Was all that real blood?

J-Bo: Yes, Cooper, it was. I’m glad I can be an inspiration to up and coming zombie killers like you.

Cooper: Would you sign my prosthetic limb?

J-Bo: Hell, no. That’s creepy!

Cooper: (sniffle)

J-Bo: I’ll sign the magazine. The fold out.

Cooper: But it’s mint condition.

Jimmy: Still excited to be on the show, Cooper?

J-Bo: Do the interview, Jimmy.

Jimmy: So, Coopster, how’d you lose your arm?

Cooper: Me and Dad were playing zombie hunter in the back yard, and he rigged up this scarecrow with a bear trap in its stomach, and I was punching it and it went off.

Jimmy: Your Dad lets you play with bear traps?

Cooper: We do everything together.

Jimmy: Like getting your arms torn off? Do you do that together? He walking around with a floppy sleeve too?

Cooper: No.

Jimmy: So, when it comes to losing limbs, you’re on your own.

Cooper: Could we stop talking about it?

Jimmy: So what then?

Cooper: Dad said that everybody has to do their part, even helpless cripples…

J-Bo: Wait, you father said that?

Cooper: Uh-huh, and that I wasn’t going to lose my place in the Toby Keslaw Academy for Zombie Killing, so he welded a machete onto my stump.

Jimmy: Yeah, I love this cornball stuff.

Cooper: It worked okay, but all my power came from my shoulder, and it took me awhile to reset. I could take one at a time but a horde got me into real trouble.

Jimmy: Run into zombie hordes a lot? You live in J-Bo’s neighborhood?

Cooper: Oh, sure. My Dad rounds ‘em up, you know, for practice? He puts ‘em in the back, sends me out to play, locks the door, and when the moaning stops he lets me back in.

Jimmy: Has he always done this?

Cooper: He used to put them under my bed when I was three.

Jimmy: I get the picture. So?

Cooper: So my Dad posted one of my zombie kills on YouTube, and it got a bunch of hits, mostly because I was almost bit a couple of times. People would post things like “look at the one-armed little freak almost get eaten at 2:09.”

J-Bo: “Little freak”. The internet can be so cruel.

Cooper: No, that was the name of the video. “Little freak and the zombies.” Dad said it would get more hits, and he was right! So then he posts the “Little Freak” page on Kickstarter, and the “Little Freak” website. We’ve raised like a million dollars!

J-Bo: So you could go to the Zombie Killer Academy?

Cooper: No, I got a scholarship. Hardship something.

Jimmy: But that’s where the MIT guys come in, right? The million dollars pays for their R and D?

Cooper: No, they did that for free. And they gave me this huge triple jointed prosthetic arm that can kill eighty zombies a second. It burns when I have it on high, and I cut myself a lot, but it’s worth it. Besides, Dad says I’ll toughen up.

J-Bo: Where’s your Dad now, Coop?

Cooper: He’s at the Strand for a book signing.

Jimmy: Book signing?

Cooper: He’s an author! He wrote “Father of Little Freak.” Sold like a million copies.

Jimmy: Here’s the thing, Cooper. I know you think life is great, but life, and I’m talking your life, really stinks. First off, it’s taken you a whole department of MIT and horrible agonizing pain just to do what any regular two-armed kid can do with a sharpened Freddy glove.

Cooper: But Dad says I’m brave.

Jimmy: Your Dad is a scumbag.

Cooper: You take that back!

J-Bo: I’m with Jimmy on this one, kid.

Cooper: I’ll show you, Rudolph. Let me get my arm going… (chainsaw sound)

Jimmy: Please. You’ll be doing me a favor. Just not the eyes, okay?

Cooper: (chainsaw sputters out) You’ll be sorry you ever said anything about… Aw crap! I forgot to charge it.

J-Bo: There are lots of zombies out there, Cooper. Is your Dad coming to pick you up?

Cooper: I’m supposed to meet him at Per Se. Can I get a limo?

J-Bo: We gave you a limo.

Cooper: Dad’s using it.

Jimmy: Hiring freeze, Cooper. You’ll have to walk it.

Cooper: (cries) I don’t wanna go out there… Get out there Schmidt. Be a man! The weak get eaten! I want to live with Mommy again… (door)

Jimmy: Profiles in Courage. Back after this.

Announcer: On this week’s episode of the Z-Whisperer—

Z-Whisperer: Your husband wants to say something to you.

Zombie gragglegorrrrrrr…

Woman: I forgive you.

Announcer: A reconciliation from beyond the grave.

Z- Whisperer: He wants to be one with you again.

Announcer: He used to beat her. But love heals all wounds.

Z-Whisperer: He respects your intellect, in a new and deep way. He just doesn’t have the words to tell you.

Zombie: gragglekreklmwargh…

Woman: He’s a new man!

Z-Whisperer: Will you take him back?

Announcer: Her answer will shock you! Z- Whisperer. Thursdays on A and E.

Z-Whisperer: Ignore your nose. Follow your heart.

(phone rings)

J-Bo: Listen to all the people calling in with the resilient stories. We haven’t been getting calls like this in a while.

Jimmy: Jimmy Rudolph here…

Caller: You know a great way to kill yourself? Hotbox the studio and light a match—(click)

Caller: They say slitting your wrists is pretty painless. So don’t do it that way. (click)

Caller: Play more Miles Davis!

Jimmy: Is that supposed to be funny? Like listening to Miles Davis is going to kill me?

Caller: No, I’m just a jazz fan. Jeez. Last time I listen to this show!

Jimmy: You see? My listenership wants me dead. That’s pretty aggressive for an audience of Jazz fans.

J-Bo: It’s the zombie apocalypse, Jimmy. When you have to kill a dozen zombies a day, you tend to get creative.

Jimmy: But J-Bo, this show was meant to be a bulwark against all that mindless destruction against mindless destructive zombies. It was humanizing, edifying, peaceful—in theory. Obviously, our listeners are as blood crazed as the rest of the general population. My dharma is in the crapper. What am I continuing the struggle for?

J-Bo: Look, Jimmy, I’ll do the song. Would that cheer you up? “East side, West side, Bronx, downtown, if hungry zombies gotcha down…”

(Jimmy reluctantly sings along.)

Jimmy/J-Bo: Don’t be afraid. You’ve got it made. Just… Ask… Jimmy.

J-Bo: We have a caller, he’s got a zombie problem, and he wants you to help him.

Jimmy: You go ahead and help him, J-Bo. I’ll just step in if you get something wrong.

J-Bo: No, he wanted to hear from you. “Just Ask Jimmy”. This is your chance to help someone, Jimmy. This will give you the purpose you’ve been looking for.

Jimmy: … Okay. You’re on with Jimmy.

Alvaro: Hi, this is Alvaro from Williamsburg. I’m surrounded by four zombies, they’re closing in, and I’ve only got one bullet left in my gun. What should I do?

Jimmy: You wanna know what you should do?

J-Bo: Jimmy. Don’t.

Jimmy: Put the gun in your pocket.

J-Bo: Did not see that coming…

Jimmy: Is there some water nearby?

Alvaro: I gotta bottle of Bubblettes. Does that count?

Jimmy: Barely. Pour a puddle in front of you, like a moat. Then grab the electrical wiring from out of the wall, put it in the water. When the zombies start spasming, just leap over the stream and get out of there.

Alvaro: Great idea. Thank you, Jimmy.

J-Bo: That was great advice, Jimmy!

Jimmy: Wait. I’m not done. Grab a cab. Take it to the WZMB studios. I will give you cash money for that bullet–

J-Bo: Jimmy! I’ll finish off this call in the green room. You take a few minutes and snap out of it.

(door slam)

Jimmy: I’m not a praying man, Lord, but I’m at the end of my rope. Is there an easy way to let go of it? The rope? Or use it to strangle myself?

(harp glissando)

Clarence: Hello, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Who the hell are you?

Clarence: Clarence Oddbody, AS1. How silly it is of you to think about ending it all, just because life is hard. Don’t you see that the trials you go through down here are forging your eternal spirit?

Jimmy: No.

Clarence: Well… they are. But you’re talking about throwing away God’s most precious gift. Besides, you’re encouraging others to do it, which is keeping us angels very busy. Stuart Whillikers had to talk down a helicopter pilot!

Jimmy: Listen, Clarence, I’m trying to spread the gospel of jazz down here. I think it could make everyone a better person. Do you listen to jazz?

Clarence: Me? Ah, well, I, no.

Jimmy: See what I mean?

Clarence: Well, we’re very busy. We don’t have time for seventeen verses of “A tisket A tasket.”

Jimmy: Exactly. People are busy, and there’s no room in their lives for jazz in between hacking zombies to death.

Clarence: Hacking what?

Jimmy: God knows about zombies, doesn’t he? The undead rising from the grave, eating our brains?

Clarence: Heavens! No! He noticed that people were taking longer to get to heaven after they died. He figured they were just taking a year off to see Europe.

Jimmy: Then you don’t know what we’re up against.

Clarence: But you don’t really want to kill yourself, Jimmy. If you did, you’d just drink all that vodka. Should be enough there to give you fatal alcohol poisoning.

Jimmy: Of course. That’s the Jimmy way out. Thank you, Clarence.

Clarence: Wait, Jimmy—don’t you want to reconsider? I can’t go back up to Heaven and tell Joseph that I helped you off yourself, can I? Isn’t there anything I can do?

Jimmy: Go out and get me some orange juice? Here’s a twenty…

Clarence: What about J-Bo, Jimmy?

Jimmy: She’ll be better off without me.

Clarence: True, but can’t you see the influence you’re having on her? Without you to annoy her with jazz, she’d just be a brutally efficient killing machine.

Jimmy: She is a brutally efficient killing machine.

Clarence: But see how she tries to cheer you up when you’re discouraged? See how she braves the dangerous streets every morning with hot coffee—

Jimmy: It’s not that hot, usually…

Clarence: All to help you put on a jazz show that few people will ever listen to? Have you thought about what your actions today will do to her?

Jimmy: She’ll get over me. She’ll find out there are other DJs, better DJs. I’m just holding her back.

Clarence: Okay, ace in the hole time. Jimmy, we’re going to grant your wish.

Jimmy: Man, that was quick. I don’t see the orange juice. Did you bring change?

Clarence: No, not that wish. A deeper one. A wish of the heart.

Jimmy: Ooo, those are very subjective…

Clarence: I’m going to show you what life would be like if you weren’t around.

Jimmy: Now? I’m busy. This vodka won’t poison me by itself.

Clarence: Come with me outside, Jimmy, and I’ll show you a world most familiar, and most strange—(zombie growls) What’s that?

Jimmy: The Bubblette zombie. I thought they killed that thing.

Clarence: It’s hideous, devoid of God’s light.

Jimmy: And it’s a vegetable. He’s slippery, so be careful. Whoa!

Clarence: Ah! My wings!

Jimmy: Hey, he likes you.

Clarence: Oh, Joseph! Joseph! Argh!

Jimmy: Great! You keep him pinned down, and I’ll just… kick him outside! (door slam) Great job there, Clarence. You’re really earning your keep… Clarence?

(door)

J-Bo: I’m back. Hey, what’s with the dead angel?

Jimmy: He was an answer to a prayer.

J-Bo: Jimmy! Were you praying? You know that never ends well for you!

Jimmy: He got ravaged by the Bubblette’s zombie. The little bastard was still alive, hiding out here, in the closet—(gasp) It’s a miracle!

J-Bo: What? What’d you find in there?

Jimmy: Scotch!

J-Bo: I didn’t think we were out.

Jimmy: Here, let me just… (gulp) Ahhh!… You know what this studio needs?

J-Bo: A minivac for the feathers?

Jimmy: This studio needs jazz! Here’s a little Memphis Slim for you folks. As for me, I learned something about myself. That I have an untapped reservoir of resilience, that no matter how hard things get, I will continue to shovel sand against the tide, until we can all sit together in a smoky den, cigars in one hand, scotch in the other, and snap our fingers at some hot new jazz act—

J-Bo: Which hand are you snapping with?

Jimmy: Relaxed, safe, and human once more. Until then, this is Jimmy Rudolph–

J-Bo: And Jamie Bogart—

Jimmy: We’ll see you next week with WZMB, Jazz at Three!

Announcer: Zombie Radio Show will be back next Thursday at 7:00 pm PST on Radio Titans! Radio titans dot com. Find more zombie radio show at zombie radio show dot com. Follow zombie radio show on twitter, facebook and you tube. Aghhh!

Announcer 2: Brains.

Jimmy:(off mike)Happy Birthday, Mister President…

J-Bo: That’s enough scotch. And take off those stilletos!

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The Final Episode – “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

And here we are, at the final episode. We had no idea when we met that night that it would be the last taping. James was recovering from his cancer treatments and had a frog in his velvet throat, but he had taken the subway to get there that night, which suggests he felt strong. At any rate, he was up to the task, as you can hear for yourself.

In writing the show, I threw in some of the more classic characters from prior episodes. Robin from Harlem makes an appearance, although we were unable to use the actress who created her. Melissa Moline comes back as well, with a vengeance. Had we known, we might have thrown in a Craig Cooper bit, but apart from that, this is the show I would have written—a final valentine to our dear friend.

We have them below in bite-sized bits, as well as the entire episode for those of you who can hang with us for a half hour. Enjoy!

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 1 “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 2 – “Valentines Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 3 “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 4 “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 5 “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep 206 Part 6 “Valentine’s Day Massacre”

Zombie Radio Show Ep. 206 “Valentine’s Day Massacre” Complete

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Zombies and Love? Zombie Radio Show Ep. 206 Part 1

Heyyyy, all you Jazz Fans out there in the night. Jimmy Rudolph here, with a new episode of Zombie Radio Show for you!

Click Here to Listen!

It’s a sad day when you look at yourself in the mirror and ask “Where did love go?” It’s an even sadder day when you spot a zombie behind you while you ask it. And when you bash that zombie with the mirror and use the broken shards of glass to chop off it’s head, with no special someone to help you, or scream while you do it– well, that’s the saddest day of all.

Here at WZMB, we try to keep hope alive. It’s hope that keeps you alive, and it’s life that defeats the Zombie Apocalypse, and it’s jazz that keeps you hoping, and hopping, so we’re defeating the Zombie Apocalypse with jazz. You’re welcome. But jazz is also the music of love, and there’s not much love out there on the streets right now. In the most romantic city in the world, New Yorkers are too busy keeping the zombies at bay to get close to anyone. Even the old romantic stand-bys like horse-drawn carriages have been impacted. Those zombie horses may be cheap, but they totally dampen the mood when they try to stomp out your brains.

But we can dream, fans. We can dream of a better day when consenting adults can come together and kill zombies hand in hand. When the roses are red again naturally, without being sticky. When we can lose our hearts instead of our brains, and playing mind games doesn’t mean zombie street hockey. I believe we will see those days again, Jazz Fans.

But until then, we’ll keep a single romantic candle in the window, put some jazz on the Bose, the champagne on ice, and wait for Love to come home.

Ring three times, Love, to show you’re not a zombie, or I’ll take your head off at the neck.

 

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Little Old Zombie from Pasadena

Great. I suppose this is my fault.

I got the call last week from the Pasadena Weekly, saying that they wanted to put me on the cover for their Halloween edition. Normally, I let my body double Norm handle these requests, but he’s been MIA since this year’s Zombiepalooza in Vegas, so it was me or nothing. I’ve always been a friend of the Weeklies, and I know from personal experience what good a boosted circulation can do. Besides, the per diem was too sweet to refuse.

The Zombie Radio Show Crew (and friend)

I flew out from JFK on Tuesday. I was scanned for zombie mites, given a rad-sweep from which my gums are still bleeding, and my luggage was doused in kerosene, as per usual. J-Bo and I arrived without incident and were shuttled out to Pasadena for the photo shoot and the interview. Carl couldn’t have been nicer, and the photographer found all my good sides, and some of J-Bo’s back hands. We walked through Pasadena’s Old Town, which looked newer that New York’s New Town, had a late night meal at Roscoe’s, hit the hay early and flew back to NYC on Wednesday.

Well, I got the other call on Wednesday night. It seems that a minor, I want to emphasize “minor”, zombie infestation has been reported for the first time in Pasadena, and that apparently, the infestation flash points are Pasadena’s Old Town, Roscoe’s, and the location of our photo shoot.

Now, I don’t want to get all defensive on you, Pasadena, but, really? You all have never had zombies before? Well, who the hell is attending all those Pasadena Pops concerts? Have you seen your Mayor?! I’ll tell you what this is– it’s profiling! Just because I’m from New York City, all the zombies have to be my fault? I mean, it might have been my zombie-proof condoms– I use them to smuggle in my X, designer drugs out there are soooo expensive– but the chances are so miniscule that my lawyer says I shouldn’t mention them. These baseless accusations have made me so upset, I can’t even relax and enjoy the excellent article the Pasadena Weekly did on us. Read the article here!

Don't let her on the casting couch!

Frankly, it’s about time you West Coasters have learned to deal with real issues. Earthquakes, landslides, race riots and economic ruin– these are wimpy problems. But now that you have a few zombies, you get to grow up with the rest of the industrial world. Try “having lunch” in your outdoor cafes with zombies shambling around. It’s not easy to “take a meeting” when someone is trying to take your brains, but it can be done. With Schwarzenegger as your Governor, you should be better equipped than most states to kick the apocalypse right in the pills!

Schwarzenegger’s not the Governor anymore?

Oh, Jesus, what have I done?

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Zombie Radio Show Halloween Safety Tips

It’s that time of year, Jazz Fans, when creepy crawlies stalk the streets, searching relentlessly for food. Actually, it’s always that time of the year here in zombie-infested New York City, but in late October, we send our children out to join them. Now, speaking as a show business professional, I’ve done my share of putting on weird costumes and begging for goodies, like applause or a higher per diem. I’ve learned a lot from my vast experience, and for once, I can put my vastness to good use. Here, for the kiddies, are some safety tips for Halloween night.

To hear the Zombie Radio Show Halloween Episode, click here!

Tip #1- Go! 90% of life is showing up. The other 10% is not showing up when it’s dangerous,  I get that. But hiding under your bed when your parents knock on your door with your costume, or clinging to the bed frame when they drag you out, or lapsing into catatonia when they try to put your costume on, is just not seemly. At some point, you’re going to have to go out into those undead streets and make a living. Halloween is the perfect training today for tomorrow’s street-wise entrepreneur. So do your parents proud, put on that Transformers costume, sharpen your machete and grow a pair. There are Snickers out there for the taking! And if the tunnels get clogged with human flesh again, like they did last Spring, and the food trucks can’t make it through, those Snickers are gonna be pretty darn tasty.

Tip #2 – Costume, Costume, Costume! Wearing that felt Snoopy outfit is a big mistake. The felt is absorbent, and weighs you down when engorged with bodily fluids, making you look more like Clifford the Big Red Dog. If you want to continue trick-or-treatin’ after your first encounter with a zombie, it’s important to choose a costume that can be easily hosed off. Mylar outfits are your best bet. They cling in all the right places, and their connection to tragic suffocations is circumstantial at best– those kids would have died anyhow. Your other option is what I call “The Michelin Method”. Put on seven layers of costume. You’ll be waddling at the beginning of the night, but as you stain your outer garments with the clotted blood of the undead, you strip it off and leave it behind, leaving you fresh, thinner and more spry for your next encounter.

Tip #3 – Never Trick or Treat alone! Always go with parents, who are made very useful by their tendency to throw themselves in between you and a ravenous zombie. If parents are unavailable, slow kids will do.

Tip #4 – Take the Veggies! Sure, we’re doing this for chocolate and strip club coupons, but every once in a while, some do-gooder will throw a carrot or an apple into your sack. We used to throw these away– usually at the do-gooder. But those tasteless clumps of nutrients may save your life. A carrot can be sharpened by your teeth into a shiv, perfect for stabbing out the eyes of a zombie looking for your brains. Apples, on the other hand, were made by God to wedge into a zombie’s gaping maw, making it too full to accommodate your sweetmeats. Urban legend had it that neighborhood psychos would offer apples with razor blades inside. Good! You can use those razor blades to slice off a zombie’s head.

Tip #5 – Have fun!

That’s it, kids. I hope you enjoyed this bit of advice, and if you survive the night, a 10% gratuity is customary. No carrots or apples, please.

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The Devil Comes to ZombieTown! WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 204

Talk about assumptions, Jazz Fans! You’d think that zombies and Satan would get along well. Satan steals souls, zombies steal brains. Though it could be argued that having soul is not the same as having brains, (not everyone has soul, fans!) you can’t live without either. You’d think that zombies and Satan would appreciate each others’ work. Perhaps they’d meet at some succubi bar and discuss techniques. Satan would talk about the time he got some guy to sell his soul in order to save his child from cancer, only to transfer the cancer to the father and make the same deal with the child, while the zombie could drool and crack a skull open. I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation– but it would be pretty crowded. Those two would attract a lot of flies.

But as it turns out, folks, Zombies and Satan do not get along, and Thank God! (Although he doesn’t get along with either of them.) To see what I mean, check out this latest episode of WZMB Zombie Radio Show!

Click Here to Listen to Zombie Radio Show Ep. 204, The Devil Comes to ZombieTown!

If you think about it, fans, it makes sense. What are zombies, after all, but undead ghouls who refuse to go to hell? Who can blame them? Heat is tough on all of us, but heat is murder on zombies. The intense temperatures increase their decomposition rate, leaving nothing but bones and the toughest of tissue. No muscle makes them slower, weaker, and with all the bones rattling against each other, it makes them louder, so they can’t even sneak up on a guy. Satan, on the other hand, has a brain– pretty tasty, by all accounts. That’s why he has those horns– to protect his brain from zombies, and probably to keep birds off.

No, Zombies and Satan are implacable enemies. Good thing, too. It means New York City is stuck with one or the other. Unfortunately, we’re stuck with the zombies.

You can check out more Zombie Radio Show on Twitter, Facebook and YouTube.

 

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“The Papp Smear!” WZMB Zombie Radio Show

Of all the many New York City traditions– the Sunday Times, rollerblading and crack, to name a few– none are so affirming as Shakespeare in the Park! Since 1956, Joe Papp has brought Shakespeare to the people, making sure that everyone has access to the immortal Bard, whether they want it or not. From the Turtle Pond to the Delacorte, we’ve been able to see the likes of Collen Dewhurst in a corset and Paul Sorvino in tights. Yum!

Until the ol’ Zombie Apocalypse. The city fathers believed that free tickets would attract fans of Shakespeare, which would in turn attract fans of brains, and cancelled the venerable institution. But the outcry was so tremendous (or maybe it was just the death screams of attacked protestors,) the city has reversed its position, and Shakespeare in the Park is back!

Click Here to Listen to WZMB’s coverage of Shakespeare in the Park!

Hey, I’m not saying it was all perfect. Gerard Butler isn’t exactly a classically trained actor. Still, he knows how to wield a sword. Helen Mirren as Lady Macbeth is a revelation, as is her ability to tear an undead ghoul’s head off with her crown. And Michael Rooker– well, Michael Rooker!The bottom line is, this is a performance that will go down in legend. It was supposed to be a six week run, and it turns out the show couldn’t run fast enough. But those 37 minutes before the actors were overrun by zombies will rank as some of the greatest minutes in live theater.

I do want to put to rest the rumors that I will be playing Hamlet next year. Even if they manage to clear the Delacorte, establish a zombie-free perimeter, create zombie deterrents that are not radioactive and give me a teleprompter for the longer speeches, I’m happy to continue as nothing more than your humble DJ, bringing you the best in jazz to keep you cultured in these dire times.

Besides, have you seen what theater pays? I mean, I’m sorry, I’d just be losing money.

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NY, NY– One Hell of a Town!

C’mon, Tourists! You gonna let zombies keep you away from discount tickets for “The Book of Mormon”? You gonna let the prospect of a little zombie drool on your skull keep you holed up in your humdrum life, instead of standing in the shortest lines ever for a Peter Luger’s Steak? You gonna let the undead keep you away from Coney Island, when there are just as many living reasons to avoid Coney Island?

Heyyy, Jazz Fans! Jimmy Rudolph here, gettin’ all text-y with you, and I want to speak some truth into the ears of tourists. Y’know, you used to love New York! I believe there are t-shirts to that effect. Starting in April, we’d see you start to drive in on your buses and parking space hoarding minivans, standing on the streets with your cameras, waiting in line at the TKTS booth, weeping at Ground Zero and the cab meters.

Not anymore. Looks like the zombies have taken a bite out of tourism. Now it’s rare to see any of you asking for directions to uptown. Frankly, we’re a little wounded. So I’ve decided to take matters in my own hands. As of right now, Jimmy Rudolph is an NYC booster! Check out this week’s episode of WZMB Zombie Radio Show as I tout all the still-fabulous places in New York City, from Battery Park City to Jamaica, Queens. Listen to this episode, and you’ll see that New York is still the greatest city in the world– not in spite of zombies, but notwithstanding zombies as well!

Click Here to Listen to WZMB Zombie Radio Show Ep. 202

Once you cast your tourist ears over this fine offering, you’ll be showing up to New York in droves– taking all the good parking; driving the cab fares up; turning other parts of the city into pedestrian malls; asking me for directions; taking pictures; singing on the subway…

Y’know, forget it. Forget I said anything. Stay in BumFuck. We’re good.

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… And We’re Back!

Heyyyyy, Jazz Fans! It’s been a long time comin’, but Jimmy’s back!

Jimmy Rudolph… The Jazz DJ? C’mon, I’ve been playing jazz at WZMB for years!… Jazz! You don’t remember jazz? The American art form? The blend of African rhythms and chords with European harmony and structure, the rockin’ cradle of rock n’ roll? Miles Davis? Charlie Mingus? Chuck Mangione?…

I’m in hell…

Jazz DJ Jimmy Rudolph of WZMB Zombie Radio Show

This is me! Jimmy Rudolph!

Okay, listen, New York got taken over by zombies, and instead of letting people go all crazy, I play them jazz and remind them that they’re human. Okay? Is that “TV Guide” enough for you?

What’s “TV Guide”? Okay, now you’re just pissing me off! Put down the goddam PSP and listen–

Got a half hour? Click Here to Listen to WZMB Zombie Radio Show!

There! Now do you see? We got zombies attacking people. Most of them are slow, shambling monsters, but some are screamers, some are leapers, some are zip zombies, and there are new mutations every day. They have a ravenous hunger for brains, or if brains are unavailable, just the flesh. A single nibble from these creatures will send a toxic infection through your veins that will kill you and turn you into a brain-munching mockery of your former self in three days.

And that’s not even the worst part! The worst part is, New Yorkers are changing even without being bitten! They’re slowly transforming into… survivalists! They’re buying whole arsenals of guns, bombs and blades, turning neighbor against neighbor, cutting off a man’s head if he even looks at your brain sideways. (No offense, J-Bo.)

City services are going down the tubes. The police are overstretched, hospitals overrun, and try getting a pizza delivered in the middle of a zombie swarm! The tip they ask for is outrageous. Buses are dicey, cabs are scarce, traffic is worse than ever.

You may wonder why we stay if things are so bad. Well… it still beats New Jersey.

We stay because we love the New York. We love the energy, the excitement, the danger, the hustle. Even with zombie drool coating it, the Big Apple shines brighter than ever in our hearts. And our hearts are something that zombies can’t touch.

Well, they could, tchnically, but they’re more about the brain.

So tune in to our new home at Radio Titans, or listen right here. We’ll have a new show every week. Filled with brains, humor, heart, but mostly… jazz!

Yes, Jazz! Deal with it!

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