Kids, did I ever tell you about the time your Aunt Robin and your Uncle Barney saved the world from a zombie holocaust?
You’re right – I should’ve told you this one sooner. But you have to build up to a story this big. Like Gropius once said: ‘such archness shall not stand’. Get it?...
...Okay. Your Aunt Robin had a lot of sources at the Presbyterian hospital down on Forty-Eighth Street. That’s how she got one of the biggest breaks of her life when that tainted Jell-O outbreak happened…I’ll tell you about that one , kids, trust me, it’s a great story – but this time she had information about the worst viral outbreak they’d seen in ten years. She headed down with a camera man. It was just her luck that Uncle Barney was there getting some tests of his own….
“And in our top story,” Robin said, smiling into the mobile camera, “New York has been plagued with a new virus that’s placing the public at unique risk.” Her smile was wooden as she turned toward the doctor pushing a green-swathed gurney behind her. “As I stand here, Doctor…YoMama…” She frowned her confusion, but quickly plunged on, “am I in any great danger?”
“Huh?” the blond-haired doctor looked up from the woman he’d been pushing through the aisle. “I mean…there’s no danger at all.” The doctor’s artificially-deepened voice took on a new sense of self-importance as he added, “according to this chart, the virus is blood-borne. So as long as you don’t get anything in your holes, you should be fine.”
Robin glanced down at the woman on the stretcher. Her gooey eyes rolled in Robin’s direction, and Robin masked a shudder. “Is there any hope for the affected?”
“Well, full-body transfusions might help. Actually, I was thinking of asking this little honey if she wants to suck my poison out.”
The woman let out a growl and the doctor paled, shifting back a bit.
“Cut!” Robin reached for the surgical mask and yanked it down. “Thank you for ruining my big shot at breaking this, Barney.”
“I’m not Barney!” he insisted. “I’m Doctor Chad YoMama, traveling OBGYN!” She flicked his ear and he whined, “ow!”
Robin let go of his ear with a glare. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just trying to get some results,” he protested. “I get tested every six months out of politeness to the lovely ladies of NYC.”
Robin glared. “You were trying to make a pass at a woman who’s barely conscious!”
“I just thought she had the flu,” he admitted.
“Barney, there’s some kind of extreme, weird flu spreading around, and I’m trying to get to the bottom of it.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Unless one of these mamas starts bleeding a gusher sometime soon, everything’s gonna be taken care of by the doctors in charge.”
Robin turned toward her boom mike guy, ready to call him off. Barney’s shriek was all the warning she got before her camera man lost his arm to the suddenly drooling, snarling, screaming woman in the gurney.
They took refuge behind a desk in the nurse’s lounge. Twenty strong, the zombies surrounded them, and Robin used anything she could to beat back the encroaching horde.
She had picked up a steak knife from a dinner tray as they’d sprinted down the hallway. It was coated with blood, and for safety’s sake she dropped it and grabbed the nearest blunt weapon. She suddenly noticed that Barney was loading a small pistol with his shaking hands
“You brought a gun into a hospital?” she gaped, grabbing a phone from the desk and yanking it from the wall with a firm tug.
“I’m holding it for Marshall!”
That’s a different story, kids. Don’t worry, I’ll get to it – all you need to know right now is your Uncle Marshall really hates squirrels.
“Why would…” a growl as a monster grabbed Barney’s tie and tried to pull him over the desk. Mindlessly, Robin grabbed a phone from the desk and bludgeoned the zombie until it was a pile of twitching gore. She took out two more monsters with the device, swinging it over her head like a mace by its extension cord, which was frightening enough to drive back the rest of the creatures.
Panting, Robin grabbed a cigarette lighter from the counter and sat back on her heels. She looked over at Barney, who held his amputated tie and gaped up at her. “That’s so hot.”
“Shut up!” she yelled, grabbing him with her free hand, bashing her way to the safety of the nearest supply closet.
Luckily, your Aunt Robin knew a little something about chemistry. She wanted to be a physicist for a couple of years back in high school until she had a little problem with a bunsun burner. Never spray Aquanet near an open flame, kids.
“You’re going to blow up the hospital,” Barney gaped.
“Just this floor,” she said. Robin was hooking various oxygen tanks together and grinned. “Everyone knows that oxygen plus fire equals boom.”
He grinned. “It’s fun being stuck in a zombie flick with you, Scherbatsky.” He double-checked the chambers of his gun.
“Can you cover me?” she asked.
Barney grinned. “Can you keep being hot and awesome while you kill stuff with that phone?”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re not getting back together just because we’re in the middle of an apocalypse.”
“But we need to save the human race!” he cried out. “What better way than through hot human-on-human sex?”
“I don’t want. To have. Kids!” She said definitively, turning the crank on the last oxygen tank.
“We could give them to Ted!” he suggested.
And that’s why I tell you not to listen to your Uncle Barney when he starts insisting you’re not my kids.
She grabbed him by the ears. “If we get out of here and I manage to chuck this thing through the door, I’ll go out with you,” she said.
Barney grinned. “Now we’ve got something worth fighting for!” They wedged open the door, Robin using an oxygen tank as a battering ram, Barney firing his pistol.
“Life isn’t a good enough reason?” she growled. They struggled down a cement stairwell and out the back door. By this point, an entire horde of zombies were dogging their steps; the hospital and its morgue included.
“Life’s not worth living unless I can be with you.”
Robin’s brief distraction allowed for a zombie to charge them – Barney shoved her into the stairwell and blew out its brans before she could manage a shriek.
They rushed down the stairwell and out the nearest emergency exit. They were in the ambulance bay, which allowed them enough space to make a proper getaway and allow for any rogue, escaping zombies. Barney jammed the door shut with the final tank, leaving just enough space for Robin to get her lighter into the building and pitch it. “Hurry! I can’t hold it!”
All your Aunt Robin needed was a one-in-a-million shot….
She leapt forward, flicked the lighter open, and set afire one of the zombie’s hands. It shrieked and jerked back into the building – Barney grabbed her by the hand and they turned and ran away.
A brief flash lit up the night before it exploded, filling the air with the shrieks of the dying. Robin turned around to reassure herself that they had no stragglers.
But, as it turns out, so did your Uncle Barney.
He grabbed her by the face. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Barney…”
“We made it.”
The kiss they shared in the flickering light of the fire wasn’t even dimmed by the arrival of a hundred firemen and over a dozen of New York’s finest.
So that’s how your Aunt Robin and your Uncle Barney got back together. The infection never spread beyond that one hospital, and your Uncle Marshall never got that squirrel gun back, but no one could really complain. Years later, they put a plaque on the rebuilt Presbyterian hospital commemorating Robin and Barney’s bravery, and it was so cool that even Marshall couldn’t complain. They were alive, and really happy about it. So they celebrated.
Yes, by getting drunk at McLarens.
By the way, guess who designed the new hospital? That’s right. But did you know your mom was hired to paint a mural in the pediatric wing? That’s another story…