Human Bites Zombie

"You want us to do what?" Franklin said, taking off his glasses.

"Just take a bite. Like you would a hamburger," Greg said.

"But this isn't a hamburger. Greg what you're talking about–"

"Is what? Not sanitary? Not normal?"

"Complete insanity!"

"Oh, so they can bite us, but we can't bite them? Sounds like a double standard if you ask me."

The grotesque man in the jail cell rammed the bars. He reached his decaying arms out to grab them, but his arms were not long enough. His moans echoed in the small room, longing for their flesh.

"You want to eat a zombie? Fine. Go for it!" Franklin said.

"I didn't say eat...only bite a little."

"I'm not doing it."

"I see you're not convinced. I'll show you how it's done."

Greg turned to face the zombie still grasping at air. The zombie's skin was a puke green hue and puss oozed from its cheek. Greg took off his loud Hawaiian shirt and wrapped it around his hand. He grabbed ahold of the zombie's hand like giving a handshake. The zombie dug its chipped fingernails into Greg's covered hand, unable to reach the skin. Greg swooped his head down to the zombie's forearm and sunk his teeth into the zombie's squishy flesh. The skin gave way like Fruit Gushers, squirting a liquid into Greg's mouth.

Greg released the zombie from his bite and stepped out of reach. The zombie stopped trying to get at Greg and backed away from the bars. The zombie rubbed its skin where Greg bit it and the skin peeled off, revealing tan, healthy skin underneath. The zombie kept rubbing up its arm, revealing more normal human skin underneath. This continued until what stood before Greg and Franklin was no zombie, but a person. 

"What...happened?" the former zombie spoke.

Greg wiped his mouth with his rolled up shirt. "You have been cured my good sir. Just let the record show, Franklin was going to kill you.”

"I never said that."

The former zombie shook his head. "Cured? From what?"

"You were a zombie. Franklin didn't want to save you, so I took it upon myself. No need to thank me though. It's kinda my calling. Like a doctor. Or a race car driver," Greg said, putting his shirt back on.

The former zombie held his head and closed his eyes. "I'm so confused."

"Don't worry, so is Franklin here. I'm going to head out, Franklin will catch you up. Might even find you a job with that cute girl who makes those amazing deer sausages. What's her name? Wendy?" Greg said, walking backwards to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Franklin asked. 

Greg reached into his pocket and put on his aviator glasses. "To save the world.”