Bri and I get good
and hammered
on vodka and soda
on the way to work.  

And no one says shit
cause zombies are great
drunks, or drunks are convincing

Or something.
The Director of Photography tells us
how great we are. “You two,
keep it up! You’re great.”  

Maybe one day, I’ll show him
the thing with the mortadella
slices that Bri and I do, privately.
It’s perfectly disgusting.  

I hope he will use us more.