Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, that honor goes to Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, and Brad Falchuk, nor do I own any of the songs featured in this story, that goes to their writers, record companies, and artists. The only things I own are the OCs and, well, that's about it.
A/N: This scene is lovingly ripped off from the PSA sections of the popular web series, Red vs. Blue, which I have just finished watching. I tweaked a little bit of it to fit the Glee universe.
Puck and Rachel sat in the music, unsure of where their follow glee club members were. In particular, Santana and Jack, who were supposed to be helping them on the assignment they had been given the day before by Mr. Schue. He wanted the group to work together on a song that, if done correctly, would be one of their choices for Regionals. This assignment seemed easy on paper, but he tossed in a little wrench. In order to do the assignment you had to be paired up with someone you either didn't like or had never really worked with in the past.
Rachel had drawn the short straw and got Santana, and Puck was given the unenviable task of making sure Jack didn't frame him for a crime the blonde boy would usually commit. Needless to say, they had a feeling someone was going out of a window or to the hospital if pushed in the wrong direction.
Puck looked down at his phone, wishing Santana would text him back. He had sent her, like, 12 texts before he got to the room and she still hadn't answered back. He was even beginning to wish Rachel would start talking. He wouldn't listen, but, at least, it would definitely have cut through the silence that was slowly making him nuts.
Then it hit him, he had the perfect silence-breaker.
"You know, Berry," he said, "nobody likes you."
Rachel's jaw dropped. "What?" she stammered.
"Nobody likes you," Puck repeated. "And do you know why?"
Rachel composed herself.
"Why is that?"
"You don't fit in," Puck said simply. "But, you already knew that. And do you want to know why you don't fit in?"
Rachel opened her mouth, as if to cut him down, but Puck silenced her again.
"Because you don't have a zombie plan," he said, nodding arrogantly.
Rachel started laughing.
"Thank you, Noah," she said. "I needed to laugh. I'm not looking forward to this assignment. Mr. Schue should know by now that I want nothing to do with…"
"I'm being serious," Puck said. "Because, to be honest, there are two types of people in this world: the ones who have a plan for when the zombies take over the planet and the ones who don't. We call the last ones 'dinner'. And no fancy vegan meal is gonna stop that."
"Nobody does that!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Sure they do," Puck said. "In my plan, I go to Alaska. Why? Because zombies have no body heat; they'll freeze up like corpse-sicles. And, if I play my cards right, I'll get to jump Sarah Palin. She's totally got that freaky librarian thing going on. Safety from zombies and free nookie, it's brilliant."
"Nobody else thinks about stuff like that," Rachel protested.
It was then that Santana chose to enter the music room.
"Finally," Puck growled. "Hey, Lopez?"
"What?" Santana snapped, she was clearly pissed about having to work with Rachel.
"What's your zombie plan?"
Santana shrugged. "I've got two weeks of food stored on the third floor. I plan on grabbing Britt and sealing off the exit."
"What?" Rachel cried. This was unreal, this could not be happening.
"And what happens after the two weeks?"
"Oh," Santana scoffed, "I'm keeping that to myself. I can't take the chance of you turning into a zombie and knowing what I'm up too."
"Oh, come on!" Rachel exclaimed.
"You still doing Alaska?" Santana inquired.
"You know it," Puck said with supreme confidence.
"You never make it," Santana argued. "All the roads will be packed with people trying to get out of the city. It'll be a tasty flesh bottleneck."
"I'm just gonna have to take that chance," Puck conceded.
"Well, whatever happens, good luck to you, Puckerman."
"Good luck to you too, Lopez."
Rachel had spent the last couple of minutes looking to her fellow Jew and then to the Cheerio, unsure of what to say.
"Have two suffered from brain damage?" she blurted out. Okay, maybe she did know what to say.
Much like Santana, Jack entered the room at just the right moment.
"Okay, losers and Rachel," he said, "I've got the perfect song for the competition. Let's get this over with."
Rachel said a silent prayer of thanks.
"Jack, thank God you're here," she said.
"Why am I thanking me for showing up?" Jack asked, either too oblivious or too indifferent the current situation.
"Do you have a 'Zombie plan'?" Rachel asked, mockingly doing quotation fingers at Puck and Santana.
Jack cocked an eyebrow at his fellow gleeks.
"A zombie plan?" he repeated. "Of course not."
"See?" Rachel argued, a smug smile on her face. "I told-"
"I have thirty-seven different zombie plans," Jack said in all seriousness.
"Wow!" Puck said, clapping his hands together for his potential stepbrother. "Now that's preparation. I am seriously impressed, Jack."
Jack's expression changed to one of malicious glee. (No pun intended.)
"Don't be, you balding shame of the Hebrew Nation," he bellowed. "In thirty-six of the thirty-seven plans, I use your fresh corpse as bait, so that I can make my initial escape from the legions of the undead."
Santana laughed at this development. Puck glared at Jack and said, "Well, at least, there's one plan where I don't-"
Jack quickly cut him off. "And in the thirty-seventh plan, I knowingly infect myself with the zombie virus, just so that I can devour you!"
"Jack, are you pulling my leg?" Rachel asked in stunned disbelief. "You can't be serious?"
"Why do you think I own so many weapons and practice so many forms of combat?" Jack inquired. "We've all gotta be ready to move a moment's notice."
"You mean to tell me that, with all the problems in the world these days," Rachel said calmly, her voice evening out, "you guys spend all of your time…"
She was silenced once again, this time by the sounds of moaning. And not the good kind. It sounded like the cries of the dying.
"What is that?" she asked.
Jack raced over to the door and saw Joker-Lips, the Other Asian, Pregnoid, and the Theorist coming toward them, bodies ridged and their eyes dead of any sort of sentient signals.
"Romero's beard!" Jack exclaimed, grabbing a nearby bookcase and moving it toward the door. "The rest of the club's been infected. Run!"
"I'll be on the third floor," Santana shouted, racing toward the other entrance of the music room.
"Sarah Palin, here I come," Puck said, climbing out through the window.
"Puck, get back here," Jack screamed. "I need your delicious meat for most my plans."
The blonde balladeer looked around the room for a distraction when he focused on Rachel.
Smiling wickedly, he asked. "Hey, Rachel, you wanna help me with something?"
"No," Rachel said with a definite edge to her tone.
"Okay, then," he said. "I need to find one of the jocks, they have the moistest meat."
Jack and Rachel darted out of the door Santana had exited from, Sam and the others following after them, the groans having grown louder.
"Hey, Sam," Mike whispered. "How long do we keep this up?"
"Until we're sure that they're gone and we can steal their song," Sam said. This had to be his most brilliant plan yet.
"Brian!" Brittany shouted. "I want Brian!"
"Brittany," an annoyed Mike cried out, "it's brains, not Brian."
"Oh," Brittany said. "Sorry, I must have read the script wrong."
She quickly switched gears.
"Moaning," Brittany said. "Moaning!"
"Will you guys shut up?" Quinn growled. "They're gonna hear us."
"Hey, Quinn," Mike shouted. "I bet it's been a while since you had some fresh meat."
"Up yours," Quinn fired back.
"Bow-Chicka," Mike didn't get a chance to finish that as Sam leapt to his girlfriend's defense, nailing Mike in the groin, "Ahh!"
A/N: And that was my loving rip-off of Red vs. Blue's Zombie Plan AKA Planning to Fail. I hope you guys enjoyed because I spent about two days trying to figure out which member of the group would be the Red vs. Blue characters and I almost made Finn 'Church', but changed it at the last minute to Sam cause I could totally picture him coming up with that kind of plan.
That all being said, I wanna hear what you think: Do you like it? Not like it? Anything at all is good. So, until next time, good morning, good afternoon, good night, and good luck to all the people of the world. And a Happy Holidays while I'm at it.