The Lego Dead - Season 1
written and directed by Carl Harrison
photographed by Carl Harrison
The Lego Dead (not actually made by lego by the way) is a Toy Story based on the Walking Dead TV and Comic series. The Lego Dead will have quotes from various movies, including non-zombie movies and wrote like the WD comic but with its own storyline, with humour, horror, love and betrayal. No infringement is purposely done and if the manufacturers of Lego or WD get in touch, I will adjust the story name/characters - but to be honest, I mean no infringement on the fantastic products generated by the makers of Lego or the Walking Dead. If you are offended - you can just go eat my Brains!
EPISODE GUIDE for Season 1
SE01E01 - Stinking Dead Cat
Don't forget to check out the images you can buy here: CLICK ME! have mugs/prints/posters and lots of other crazy The Lego Dead merchandise.
SE01E01 - Stinking Dead Cat
The year is 2016, its March, cold but spring is in the air in the mid-western town of Brick'n'Bucket.
Rick Grimes, Sheriff's Deputy has been a shadow of his former self, since his son Caaarrl, ran away as a young teenager several months ago.
Rick lost his wife Lori to his best friend and also sheriff's deputy, Shane when they shacked up together while Rick was having his appendix out in the local Mercy Hospital.
Caaarrl couldn't stand the drinking, crying and shouting so he left home.
Rick's constant search for Caaarrl has never turned over any stone to Caaarl's whereabouts.
Although they tried, Rick's best mates, Michonne and Daryl Dixon (married in this universe) believing Caaarrl was dead could not get Rick to move on with his life.
They set him up with a lady called Cynthia. Rick wouldn't have any of it. Cynthia was even made by the same manufacturing robot that Lori was made by, on the same conveyor belt and packaged with the same barcode but it was no good. Rick knew the difference. Lori was a great housewife, she knew how he liked his coffee, she knew Rick liked to sleep on the left side of the bed and what colour brick-boots Rick loved to wear and together with Caaarrl, everything was perfect.
Not any more though.
"Damn my appendix" Rick said. "If it wasn't for that operation, I'd still have a family. Now Im a washed up lonely copper with no wife and no kid. What is my purpose now?"
Michonne and Daryl tried to give Rick some purpose, calling him up at all sorts of odd hours in the night saying they heard funny noises in the back yard or in the street with car alarms going off.
Rick always turned up, he was their mate and they were his, but he never found any problem. Car alarms were not going off and there was no disturbance in their back yard.
Eventually though, there was a problem and Rick politely told them to go sort it out themselves. So they did.
"Hey sugar baps", Daryl shouted to Michonne from the back yard, "there's some freakin dude out here smelling like he's cuddled a dead rat, trying to give me a love bite".
Michonne replied, "Pookie, if he's in our yard, shoot him, its legal an'all, Rick said we can sort it out ourselves. Dont you let him give you a love bite, I dont want you sleeping in my bed stinking like a dead cat".
Daryl didn't have his gun on him, just his night-time crossbow, which he always had on him as he was a bit of chicken at night, though the neighbour he lived in was pretty respectable and only saw a few shootings a year, mostly around Christmas.
Daryl fired off an arrow into the hand of this stranger. Just as a warning - Rick may have said its ok to sort it out, but Daryl still had a brain and did not want to get arrested for something too serious. The stranger didn't cry out in pain, he didnt grab his hand like you would when you hurt yourself - he just moaned.
"You finished yet Pookie, your side of the bed is getting cold and I've started eating your takeaway so hurry up before it's all gone!" Michonne shouted, teasingly.
Daryl knew if he didnt get a move on, his bed-time takeaway was going to get eaten pretty quick and he loved his noodles and spring rolls.
Daryl hissed at the stranger "Let that be a lesson to ya, no get the hell out of my yard" and hurridly rushed back indoors and upstairs for his midnight munchies, knowing he was also in for a treat of Nookie with Pookie.
"Got enough protection there Pookie?" Michonne sniggered, "cant be too careful, on my wages, we can't afford a baby-brick yet sugar baps" replied Daryl.
The stranger moaned.
SE01E02 - Im coming to get you Barbara
"Morning sugar baps" Daryl rolled over and said to Michonne, "Morning Pookie" said Michonne. A quick kiss of the lips and Daryl squealed, "Im busting, off to the bog to drain the snake". Michonne rolled her eyes, "how polite" she muttered.
Meanwhile, at Ricks house..
Rick had been hitting the bottle hard. Just awake, he holds his head - its proper throbbing. "I'm never going to drink again" he whispered to himself, being careful as not to be loud enough to add to his blinding hangover.
Later that day, Daryl pops over to Ricks house, knowing Rick has the week off due to some overdue vacation time. KNOCK
KNOCK. "Who's there" said Rick. "Caaarrl" says Daryl.
"You piece of plop Daryl, thats not funny" replied Rick, "Well, open the door then, I'm freezing my blocks off out here".
Rick lets Daryl in.
"So how did your intruder go last night matey",Rick said to Daryl.
"You fire what off in his hand matey?" Rick sniggered. "You dirty sod" said Daryl, snorting through his nose with laughter.
They both sat on the sofa and laughed through their noses.
"There was some bloke trying to get over into my yard so I shot him in the hand. I didnt want to get blood everywhere and if I shot him in the leg, I would 'av had to clean up the mess afterward and help the stinker back out coz he wouldn't have been able to have walked" Daryl said.
"Ah well. I'll keep in touch with the hospital, see if anyone needs a hand-job" Rick screeched. They both laughed again, snorting through their noses.
After Daryl and Rick recover from the little chuckle, Rick asks "So what do you mean he was a stinker?"
"Ah right. Ok, well, since this time, something did actually happen, it might be best if you give me a call if it happens again." Rick says.
Some time passes and Rick and Daryl blast a few on the Playstation 4 when Rick invites Daryl to stay for the evening and get hammered with some cheap beer Rick had confiscated from some underage teens he caught boozing it up a few days back at the local lake.
Daryl, being a very good mate, of course said yes.
"Hey sugar baps, Im going to stay with Rick for a few hours this evening and play some chess if thats ok?" Daryl says to Michonne on the phone.
"oh yeah, course you are Pookie, you mean you're going to get drunk as a skunk? If thats the case, I'm coming over too, I just have some housework to do that you should have done before leaving earlier today you lazy ass!" Michonne sternly said.
"I love you Sugar Baps" says Daryl, Michonne rolled her eyes and replied "I love you too Pookie."
So as the day rolled on, Michonne washed up Daryl's clothes and her own, cleaned around the house.
The sun just started setting when Michonne realised she hadn't put the clothes out to dry - it had been a cold day - but at least it wasn't raining but being March, it was pretty nipply so Michonne had an idea of putting out Daryl's clothes on the washing line, hoping it might freeze over night and Daryl would have some fun trying to get a clean T-Shirt on thats frozen like a piece of cardboard. Michonne could be right evil when she wanted to be and rightly so - Daryl should have done his own washing and been home helping.
Nonetheless, Michonne was almost ready to go visit the lads for a bit of PS4 gaming and some drinking but of course had to go hang out the clothing to dry.
As Michonne hang up her husbands whiteies, she heard a noise by the edge of her back yard. Thinking it was that damn cat from next door she shouted "scat you cat" thinking it would rattle the cat to leave her yard but nothing so she popped Daryl's favourite T-shirt with "Bad Mofo" back into the washing basket to investigate.
It was almost dark, now the sun had virtually gone behind the horizon but there was enough blue-night sky to see most details and what she saw - horrified her.
It was Frankie, the owner of scat the cat from next door, his hand, pinned against a wooden fence panel - Michonne recognised the arrow and thought to herself "yep pookie, you really took care of the intruder last night" before realising Frankie wasn't looking quite like Frankie. His skin was grey and bits of it had come away from his face. Looking at the half-finished wooden repairs that Daryl supposed to have done in late summer she could see that Frankie had, during a struggle to free himself, caught his face on one of the half-nailed in nails on the nails.
"Yuck" Michonne said, "that is disgusting" then the smell hit her - "bloody hell Frankie, you do smell like you've cuddled a dead cat".
Frankie cleared his throat (as you do when you're a dead ass zombie) and spoke -"We're coming to get you Barbara. Damn, wrong script. We're going to eat your brains! Damn. Wrong script again. "Oh here we go" Frankie exclaimed - "Uuggggghhhhhhh moannnnnn"
Michonne let out a squeaky fart, very high pitched, the stink was bad enough, it masked the smell of Frankie. "Ahhh, thats better Mich" she said.
Frankie began to cough and rub his eyes with his free hand, you could see that Frankie was ecking and beginning to feel very uncomfortable with the current situation.
Soon, the smell discipated and the stink of dead cat returned.
Frankie turned his ripped face towards Michonne and was tugging away with his pinned hand, eventually - his whole arm just popped off.
Michonne, checking behind her, soon make a quick escape to the house to call Rick. The phones were down. "What the hell is going on, Daryl, you knob-end, you havent paid this month's phone bill" - evident by the red-stamped "Overdue" envelope sat in front of the house-phone.
Michonne grabbed the car keys and made for the front door, got in the car and started it up, noticing Frankie had now made his way around the side of the house and was heading towards her, holding his one arm with the other, like a weapon.
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