Monday, November 21, 2011

To Type With Conviction

Friends, today I crossed off one of the items mentioned in my previous list of Christmas-gifts-I've-always-wanted-but-never-asked-for-for-obvious-reasons. Her name is Olive. She's my new Olivetti Underwood vintage manual typewriter.
She's used, but works well, according to the seller on Ebay, and I love her already. I've thought about why typewriters are so appealing to me. They're inconvenient, loud, and inconvenient again. Yet, there is a power in the stubborn keys that I've only recently articulated to myself.

First, there is the writing process that I'm adopting: As Stephen Tuttle says, every first draft is nothing more than an outline. And every time I rewrite a second draft, the result is exceedingly better than the first. So, why tempt myself with convenience? This typewriter will be my first draft writer, forcing me to really look at my work and only save what is excellent.

Second, renowned writer Barry Lopez visited BYU campus a few weeks ago and talked about his experience writing essays, fiction, and poetry. Lopez was very warm, eloquent, and passionate. I immediately grasped the depth of his love for his work and felt in turn a need for that depth. Lopez was asked after his reading about the fact that he still uses a typewriter. He replied that the typewriter is a comforting machine for him, not only because of his age, but because each key takes determination. Lopez writes every word, sentence, page, and story with passion and zeal at his typewriter, and he infuses his pieces with the most intense forms of truth.

Truth. I have thought much on this idea as of late. In my church, we are privileged to receive personal blessings that illuminate potential accomplishments in our lives if we live righteously. They are called patriarchal blessings, and I treasure my own greatly and often look to it to remind myself what I am capable of. In my blessing, I have been told that there will never be a time in my life where I am not searching for truth, and that I should take every opportunity to build my testimony; to share it and strengthen those around me. I am becoming more and more sure that this life of writing is my great testimony--my declaration of truth.

I strive to write emotional truth and to place my readers in situations they are initially unfamiliar with, but as the story continues, they find truths and insights that feel much closer to them than many common-place facts. This aspiration of mine is something I need reminding of every day. I can't forget that I write to transcend my experiences and help others do the same. I write to connect all of us through the Human Experience. I'm excited for Olive to come. I anticipate her heavy keys and obnoxious click, click-click, rrrring as I pound out my stories, holding the highest conviction to change the world with truth.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011


Hey all! I'm so sorry to have skipped out on many potential posts, but I've been rather busy. To sum up, I'm in grad school, loving it, Divine Comedy might become a TV show on BYUtv, and I sang Firebolt at the Quidditch World Cup this last weekend. (: I am very blessed.

And I'm so excited for CHRISTMAS!!! For this season, I've decided to make a list of gifts I'd like. These aren't the normal kinds of gifts, however. There will always be the typical $, clothing gift cards, and movies, but this is the list of Christmas-gifts-I've-always-wanted-but-never-asked-for-for-obvious-reasons.

1. A pottery wheel.

Since seeing the movie Ghost as a child, I have wanted a pottery wheel. It's messy and therapeutic and you get to make pots! I remember my friend Mal buying me pottery clay for my 11th birthday. I was so excited, but realized that it was just the clay and no wheel. Mal was disappointed too; she thought she'd fulfilled my childhood dream, but it remains on the list.

No, I do not mean a stuffed animal armadillo, I mean a real, bona-fide, taxidermied armadillo. This is inspired by the movie Simon Birch. When I was a kid, I saw Simon Birch and realized that the only cool stuffed animal to have would be an armadillo. When else can you hold an armadillo? This is my only chance, and thus, puts it on my list.



Yes, it's a temporary gift. It will last for as long as my discipline allows me to savor it, and then it will be gone. But come on, it's Harry Potter.

It's no secret I LOVE sharks. This is the ultimate ultimate gift. It's a body pillow and sleeping bag. I could disappear in a shark's mouth and snuggle up to it's innards. It is 7 ft. long, and handmade plush. $300, but worth every penny. I'd never have to buy bedware again. Until I got married, but even then....

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs
Patch Adams
You can tell that many of my most yearned-for gifts are results of my obsession with movies. But this is a tactile experience I must encounter before I die. I would replace this with any food item, so long as it is textured and I can immerse myself in it. This is a bucket list item, and that's that.

6. A typewriter

This is an addition to my list. I'd forgotten about it, but ever since going to my mom's work as a kid and playing on their typewriters, I've wanted one. I probably wouldn't use it for writing novels (heavens, no). But letters, notes, etc. I think everyone should receive a typewritten letter at some point in their lives. (:

After 22 years, I've written it all down. That's the first step, I suppose.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Just Own Up To It

Hey all! Sorry, I'm a little late on today's writing. (I've been up since morning, so it's still technically today!) We had a bit of a busy day with Divine Comedy, but I've managed to share a personal essay I wrote for a creative writing class. It's one of my earlier pieces, so it may read a little differently, but I've always had a soft spot for it. (:

Just Own Up To It

Friday, July 15, 2011

Poetry Post

Hello all!

I leave with you some poetry. I do not write poetry often because I'm simply not very good. This will be a rare, if not singular, occurrence that I hope you enjoy.

A Walking Villanelle

I took a walk today with eyes that really see
Past the first impressions of a world not ever found
And came back with new insight that set my body free

The luring lights on the small marquis
Caught my eye and held me bound
As I took a walk today with eyes that really see

In watching common bourgeoisie 
I caught their thumbprints looping round
And back again with insight that set my judgments free

On barren cherry blossomed trees
I see crackling veins in leaves an arid, dusty brown
On my walk today with eyes that really see

The sky had always been a pale blue to me
But I just saw a big long streak of gold-pink-coral-red uptown
I’m sure it’s backed with insight that sets ideas free

Piercing air so weighted with secondhand debris
I noted wisdom written in the ground
When I took a walk today with eyes that really see
And came back with new insight that set my being free

skirting woman
i step inside folds of life and air
sliding up my legs an open field
that leaves my knees and thighs 
free to greet each other

i wasn’t given wit
to percolate my charm
ensuring plans on friday night
attached to someone’s arm

i bite and spit in a rhythmic way
that turns a habit into art
freeing my fingers
for more important matters

i wasn’t given voice
to hand out passive sighs
with silence as my only treatment
to the world’s own cries

Yes, I opt for skirts.
I opt for freedom.
For breath.

Letters to You
I made out your face a couple of times in some of the dearest and worthwhile lines of my favorite Shel Silverstein book. The one with the king and the peanut butter sandwich. You stepped right out in hyperfocusedtechnicolorsaturatedtones of most folks I know, trails of peanut butter riding your breath while letters and dashes flaked off the bottoms of your bare feet. I followed you home, collecting the fragments of untold words and untold stories that fell behind you while you walked. I don’t think you saw me, but I knew you knew I was there, cause you kept your pace slow so that I could keep up. Your house was something of a sort unknown, but I could tell it was yours cause a sign on the window said Free Showers Upstairs, and people don’t usually say those things unless they’re hyperfocusedtechnicolorsaturatedtones who mean what they say when they say what they mean. You left the door open with an O for good measure. Stepping over O, I went on upstairs and took a free shower. I got to singing Imogen and couldn’t help wanting you to stand outside the door while we sang Hide and Seek. Cause I know you’re not a hyperfoolishtechnicorruptiblesatiatingtongueincheek sort of person who’d insult me with high hopes and low expectations.

But you never came. 
And I sang one part with the other in my head bumbling “ransom notes keep da da da—” It didn’t work out too well. Dissonance needs someone else too, I suppose. After the shower, I gathered your letters and headed on up four floors to your attic to piece a piece of you together again. I heard you downstairs so I worked real quick, my fingers getting tingles and my legs getting cramps. By the end of the day, I finished my work and crept on down past the free-showered floor to give you back a bit of yourself that I figured you might have been looking for. You didn’t look at me, but I knew you knew I was there, cause you picked up the bits of you left on the table and laughed real loud to let me know you cared.
I’m heading on home now, and I won’t look back. But if you ever feel so inclined, come on over here where we give free books of Silverstein and his kind. Cause now one of my pages has empty spaces so I’m leaving it open on my table by the bills. I wouldn’t even think about making you, dragging you, forcing you, to. But 
to read about hyperfocusedtechnicolorsaturatedpeanutbuttersandwiches
sometime soon.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Short Story: Knick Knacks

This is a short story also from my writing class this year. I made some adjustments to it that alter the plot substantially and make it a lot more complex so that I could post it on here, so I'm much happier with it and I hope you enjoy it as well.

Whitney Call Knickknacks

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Short Story: Roustabout

Hey all! So I've been devoting some time to other pursuits: I'm catching up on the 7th Harry Potter book before the movie comes out. I think a lot of you understand when I say Harry Potter grew up with me. It's very important that I finish rereading The Deathly Hallows before the movie this Thursday night. So... my writing has significantly diminished today. But I didn't want to leave with you with nothing. (:

This is a piece of flash fiction I originally wrote for my Fiction 318 class this year. It had to include a specific number of words as well as a few other requirements, so I had fun making a piece of fiction in such restrictions. You should try it. Give yourself some arbitrary restrictions and make a piece of fiction from them. It'll help your writing really improve.

Anywho, enjoy! And hooray for Harry!
The Roustabout

Thursday, July 7, 2011

And Now for Something Completely Different...

Hey all!

This week I'm posting a scary story that I wrote for a party. It's completely different. I'm trying to branch out of my comfort zone because I hear it's good to do that. This story is called "The Gray Man."

Anywho, hope it's chilling and intriguing.

Gray Man

Sunday, April 24, 2011

A New York Easter!

Hey all! I'm blogging from our hotel St. James on 46th and Broadway here in New York. We've walked around all day long since yesterday morning, so needless to say, we're very tired.

I've been worrying for the longest time about how we're going to fill our seats for the shows we're performing. We've got one show this Tuesday at 9:30 pm at the People's Improv Theater, and another show at Gotham Comedy Club this Thursday at 6 pm. Both clubs have contacted me asking how many people we expect to come, because, so far, not many people have gotten any tickets for our shows.

This has been stressful. I've been reduced to tears thinking about the people breathing down my neck for these two shows, but today was Easter. And by the end of today, I feel completely different.

We had a fireside today by George Nelson at the chapel in downtown Manhattan. It's in the same building as the temple and was completely awesome to attend in the middle of New York City.

One of our advisors in Divine Comedy from BYU's theater department. He talked about the parable of the unjust steward that Christ talked about in Luke 16. In it, the steward tricks his master to fix his situation when he lost his job. The scriptures then say:

And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had done wisely: for the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light.

Now, why would the Lord commend the unjust steward? We talked about how those who are focused on this world and this life are more prepared and wise about their life plans than the plans we make for our eternal future. The Lord then says: And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness.

Now, what does this mean? It's the whole "Be in the world but not of it" idea. We can learn so much from those around us. There is much beauty in the world and we can find it and expand upon it, illuminating it with the light we have from the gospel.

This thing that we're doing, this comedy group, is a way we can spread light and truth to all the world.

This is when everything changed for me. I've been so worried about pleasing these big guys who are housing our shows, when really I need to focus on those who can gain light and truth from seeing our clean, uplifting comedy. If I keep focusing on that instead of our comedy club owners, I know that the Lord will provide. He will help His work go forth and as long as we're aiding in this work, we will be successful. Even if there's only one person in the audience, if it's someone who needs to see us, that's all I care about.

And so, on the way home, I looked at everything with a fresh pair of eyes. Instead of being nervous and awkward when confronted with such a foreign place, I saw all my brothers and sisters who I  can serve and help in my own way. It was wonderful to see the world a little bit the way the Savior sees the world.

I love New York. (:

Friday, April 22, 2011

B.A. with a BA

We've come to a milestone in my adult life: Graduation!

That's right, kiddies. I got my Bachelor of Arts at Brigham Young University. Got. In the past tense. I did it. (:

Commencement was a wonderful procession of celebration and wisdom and lots of clapping. It was surreal, though. While I was listening to Elder Richard G. Scott speak on all we've gathered from this university in the last four years that will help us go forth and serve, I thought to myself, "Has anything changed about me in the last four years? What the heck have I learned?"

Of course, we always learn a lot when we keep asking ourselves that question, but I figured I'd answer that for you tonight by taking a little trip...

Freshman year:

So excited to start my higher learning! Little did I know that crap computer would break four months later and never turn on again, thus serving as my catalyst for meeting my wonderful Macbook, Theo.

I dated one boy freshman year. I thought we'd get married. We broke up after two weeks, before we even had a first kiss. I learned then that just because he's Mormon, doesn't mean you marry him.

Also, I learned that I can't back down to dares.

And that I had a pretty awesome group of friends.

Thank you guys for making my first year away from home absolutely wonderful.

Then I lived with Mal for the summer. Fantastic idea, in my opinion. Plus, I chopped all my hair off!

Another good decision. Lots of really good decisions before starting off sophomore year! Once I got into my sophomore year, however, I found myself still unlucky... in love, that is. Very unlucky, actually. And I left this year never wanting to come back. I learned something very good though: don't let anyone make you feel used. You can do that by taking a step back and analyzing the actions someone takes toward you. If they make you feel bad, you should leave. But don't kick yourself too hard once you've finally left.

Also, I wrote a novel this year. No joke. A real, 230-pager. Coming from someone who thought she'd write field reports on female genital mutilation in Somalia, this came as quite a surprise. But I loved it. I fell in love with writing at this point. I'd always been drawn to creative writing classes, but I'd never experienced anything so rewarding. I wrote a character that I grew to love. She was gritty and mean and sensitive and observant and really a mess of a person. But she led my story, Je Suis Bien, Procassini. And I found that emotional truth can come through fiction. I knew how to get at it. I knew how to translate real life into a story and make it something that stuck with people. Granted, the story itself is my beginning work, and I'm still learning how to refine this, but I mark my sophomore year as the pivotal moment when I realized what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I wanted to write people and write it in such a way that made real life people think about each other. I thought it was fantastic. And continue to think so.

Finally, this was the year I joined Divine Comedy. Now, I don't care how much stress devoting 7/8 of my life to this group has caused me. I love them. I love them I love them I love them. I gained a family here at BYU when I joined Divine Comedy. And I can't thank God enough for letting me have them.

Junior year! Ho-okay. Started out rough for me. Probably because I thought I might get married. And not like my freshman year of 2 weeks. This was real life love, buddy. This was really it.

And then it wasn't.

This year, while certainly my hardest, taught me very much. This is when I grew the most and learned how I personally can come closer to the Savior.

First: I realized I needed to break the curse of my upbringing. All the marriages of my family were proposed to in under 3 months of knowing the person. That's the exception. Not the rule. I realized that most people don't get that overwhelming revelation. They get to know each other. And boy, is patience a beast to tackle when you realize you don't have it.

Second: Sometimes we see something and we think it's the best thing for us. The best in the entire world. And then we find out we're wrong. That's when we need to trust God, who simply has something better in mind.

Third: Don't push away your friends when you feel crappy. They're your friends. They only want what's best for you. If this particular friend ever reads this blog, I know I've apologized already for my whole Junior year, but here it is again: I'm sorry I was such a butthead. I'll try forever to be as good a friend to you as you were/are to me.

Fourth: Get to know your parents. I found out much more about my mom after a spontaneous road trip with her over the summer. Literally, I stopped the egg beater that was beating my orange zest cookie dough and we left for Utah. And on this roadtrip, I found out where my mom came from, what she found joy in, and how much work she really did put into our home growing up to make it look so easy. I learned a lot about life in that 13-hour car ride listening to nothing but Beach Boys, Abba, and the Carpenters. I wish I'd take the time to learn it sooner.


Senior year!

It's been a great year. I've learned a lot about my potential. I can tackle 18 credits while working, being president of Divine Comedy, performing in a Mask Club play, and remaining absolutely calm about all of it.

I've learned that I have a habit of basing my self-esteem on how many people show interest in me (as a friend, or otherwise) and that I can combat this by looking at all I know about myself personally, and going from there. I've learned that I often let how uncomfortable I feel in social situations get in the way of how I treat people and that I need to learn to break my comfort zone and help those around me. I've learned that on paper, I look pretty dang good. I've learned that in real life, I'm better than what I look like on paper. I've learned that being liked is just as sensitive as liking someone, but that both are good experiences. I've learned that graham crackers can substitute for bread in peanut butter sandwiches. I've learned that push pins can go in cinder block if you're strategic and pretty strong. I've learned that we affect people more often and more deeply than we might realize. I've learned that we often repeat and re-learn patterns of struggles in our lives for specific reasons and that instead of complaining about them, we should learn why God's repeating trials for us. I've learned that the Atonement is an enabler as well as a healer and that when we use the Atonement, we can ask God to grant us the power to change our circumstances instead of asking Him to just change our circumstances for us. I've learned never to schedule three DC shows in one night. I've learned that I can write people and use that for good. I've learned that I'm a B.A. when it comes to what I love and I'll have an MFA in two years to prove it.

Entered to learn. Going forth to serve (while still learning much more along the way).

Love to all! I hope that April finds you well.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Conference: I love it.

I have been spiritually fed today. I feel like I should get onto my little corner of the web and express my deep appreciation and love for my Savior, Jesus Christ. He and my Heavenly Father have truly touched my heart as I've listened to sessions of my church's General Conference.

I went into this conference weekend with several questions in mind. Being in a very uncertain time in my life where my future's about as constant as my bank account, I have a lot of these questions. In listening to the talks our leaders have prepared for us, however, my questions were not directly answered. I was surprised, however, to find a much more valuable insight as I listened to the divine counsel we received.

As I took notes during Elder Dallin H. Oaks talk on righteous desires, I saw a distinct scene in my mind of what I could potentially become in my life. It was a deeply moving portrait of the woman I so desperately wish to be. She is outlined in my patriarchal blessing but has remained a far away ideal that I might reach at the end of my life. Therefore, this scene that played in my mind touched my heart and my spirit. I learned while listening to these talks who my Heavenly Father has intended for me to be, and furthermore, I learned how I can become that woman. It is through the simple commandments we elect to follow every day. It is through the strengthening actions of charity, selflessness, and faith that these speakers outlined this weekend. I can become the woman my Heavenly Father has planned for me to be in following His counsel and simply elevating my standards for myself.

My questions regarding my immediate (and long-term) future have remained unanswered (directly, at least), but in their place, I now have less concern about these challenges and more about how I can better myself. I feel like my priorities have shifted and that I need to stop worrying about what I'm doing rather than who I'm being.

I know that the men and women who spoke at this General Conference spoke on what the Lord would want each of us to know. As Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said, "If we teach by the Spirit, and you listen by the Spirit, some one of us will touch on your circumstance" and offer specific instruction just for you. I have a testimony of this church. I know it is true because I have felt the overwhelming spirit of my Savior in my life when I live its teachings. I have been blessed with guidance, love, and encouragement when I strive to do what is right, and I have been blessed with forgiveness when I have redirected my life back on the course of righteous living.

I am simply offering my testimony for any who has curiously stepped into my blog. It is the single greatest gift I possess and continues to bless me every day. I know Christ lives and that we are children of a Heavenly Father who loves us and wishes for us to return to Him so that we can one day be like Him. And I say these things humbly in the name of my Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

End of the Semester...

I'm hoping all the poo right now will turn into something beautiful.

I guess that's why I write. (:

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Story Relay over Gchat

On Zombies, of course.

Story by Brian Havig and Whitney Call

12:18 PM 
BrianThis is how the movie goes. The zombie apocalypse hits, and worse, they are zombie ninjas. And circumstances force the six of us to fight together. As we flee a hoard of zombies, my sister dies first, which is sad, but someone had to go. She has a husband and three young kids, so of course she was the emotional choice as far as the movie is concerned. We escape the first wave when you inexplicably happen to wrangle up a huge semi truck full of clothes and food. On the road, we lose my cousin who died when she deliriously ran to her zombie-turned husband and was eaten by him. Along the road we fight well, the four of us that are left over, you, me, my brother, and Kristi, are efficient zombie ninja killers. You particularly seem to be an able group member who has saved us on multiple occasions. But no matter how far we escape, the zombies somehow always manage to find us. We’re convinced there is a traitor among us. You get me alone, and confess you saw my brother talking to the zombies. They kidnapped his wife and are holding him hostage in exchange for his cooperation and betrayal. I almost believe you and send him off to be eaten, but remember the anti-zombie pact we made together years before for just such an occasion and then I catch you in a scheme, but a little late, because we've been ambushed. We fight off the zombies, but you escape to come back later in the grand final battle. My brother was mortally wounded in the battle, and I weep openly as I have to chop off his head so he won't turn into a zombie.

Then, with vengeance over my slain brother fresh in my heart, we lock and load and go after Whitney, Queen of the ninja zombies.

12:23 PM 

me: However, this movie ends in an existential fashion. When the action-seeking fans leave the theater, rolling supertitles hit the screen: TWO HOURS LATER. We find Brian and Whitney sitting in a cafe, Brian eating scones, Whitney eating Brian's brother's calf which is the tastiest part of the human body. They discuss politics, art, literature. Finally, Brian sees the problem to this Zombie madness is world hunger, as Zombies originated from Kenya and migrated to the US when food sources were scarce.

He recommends Whitney and her drones join a habitat for zombies in Portland, as every solution can be found in Portland, and she and her minions catch a van and hitch hike to Portland, ultimately killing the driver as a traveling snack, which is perfectly harmless because the driver is an escaped serial killer. Whitney and her dead, people-eating friends live blissfully in Portland, feeding off ex-cons and rapists, and making the world a better place.
12:26 PM 
Brian: The sequel...
12:28 PM 
Peace was achieved, but relations between the humans and the zombie ninjas is becoming strained. The zombie ninjas are growing, and although they have kept their bargain and only eat the dregs of society and the occasional reality TV loser, humans are growing scared and intolerant. Minor scuffles are happening at the borders, Brian and Whitney, who have become good friends, find their trust and friendship strained by the bubbling politics and widespread discrimination.
12:29 PM 
Then suddenly, fighting begins again, and too old enemies turned friends must fight against each other once again.
7 minutes
12:36 PM 
me: Luckily, Whitney's daughter, Aurelia, now fully grown, is half-human half-zombie, and is researching medicine to cure the genetic zombie defect. In the process of coming up with a cure, however, Aurelia gets stuck in the Congo for most of the movie fighting zombie animals, and doesn't show up until the carnage has subsided and few members of either side remain. She announces that she has found a cure for zombieism and holds up the vial, triumphantly. When a zombieist human fanatic takes the vial, throws it on the ground, and stabs Aurelia, calling her a Zimbo-lover (which, as we all know, is the derogatory term for zombies).

Aurelia falls to the earth as Brian and Whitney watch in shock. Aurelia's hands open on her sides, revealing a single daisy, which is the symbol of peace in the prime days of Zombie-Human relations. Brian takes the flower and crushes it in his hand, only to find a fluid leaking out that smells like Ginger Ale. Whitney takes the flower and drinks of its nectar, finding her skin changing hues from sickly gray to a healthy pink. She resumes her human form and returns to Aurelia's lab where she reproduces the nectar for her few remaining zombie friends. Everyone turns back into humans. It is only right before the credits roll that you discover the ex-zombies still crave human blood. The blood that flows in their newly resurrected bodies...
12:38 PM 
Brian: this is getting epic
part 3, the final chapter of the trilogy...
9 minutes
12:48 PM 
Brian: Peace appears to have been achieved in the Newmerica, the new nation formed after the destruction of all north american nations and governments. Zombies have become a thing of historic documentaries and "I remember where I was when I heard the president was eaten by a zombie..." 

But strangely, even though there is no sign of zombies, fresh corpses keep showing up with wounds similar to a zombie attack. Brian, now head of the Newmerica Intelligence Association, investigates the strange crimes, and tracks the heaviest activity to an abandoned warehouse downtown. All seems quiet, until they are attacked by a huge group of what appear to be humans but act like zombies. They take heavy casualties but win the fight, but Brian was bit in the battle and has started to feel strangely… very strangely…

In the meantime, Whitney, is the front runner to become newest president of Newmerica, but finds no matter how hard she tries, she can't stave off her cravings for human brains, even though indulging would not only ruin her political career, but also likely cost her the love of her new fiance, Bobby Zane.
12:51 PM 
Who, even though she loves him very much, constantly struggles between wanting to kiss him, and wanting to crack his skull open and eat his sweet, mushy brains.

12:54 PM 
me: After the world hears of Zombie Repellant Patenter Bobby Zane's proposal to Whitney, they are set in a frenzy of gossip and paparazzis. Afraid of slipping back into her old habits, Whitney calls Brian one night to tell him of her worst fears being realized. He is sympathetic but unsure what course of action to take. Little do they know that a paparazzi is hidden under the balcony of her apartment, recording her phone conversation.

The next morning, newsstands are splashed with the phone conversation, both speculating Whitney's unfaithfulness to Bobby as well as her Zombie nature. Bobby Zane, while a perfectly understanding man with one tight butt, cannot cope with the newly discovered information regarding his fiance. He postpones their engagement and tells her he needs some time to "think things through." Meanwhile, people begin to grow uneasy, riots break out in the streets. Stores are being looted, as the headlines declare we are on the brink of "HUMAN-ZOMBIE WWII"

12:55 PM 
Brian enters Whitney's office to find her gnawing on her own arm. He grabs her by the shoulders, tries to shake some sense into her, and finds his nose tingling at the sensation of her blood. Brian tries to ignore it, but as Whitney cries and tells him of her broken life, Brian feels his fingers twitching, his mouth watering, and finally launches at Whitney with teeth bared, ready to kill.
12:56 PM 
Brian: I have a be continued…
24 minutes
1:21 PM 
Brian: intermission over...
1:32 PM 
Brian: brian, overcome with this new, intense craving, attacks whitney, and a fight of epic proportions begin. The shocked whitney blocking the blows of the ravenous brian, leaving the office in a mess. Finally, Whit knocks the leaping Brian out of the window and he falls to his death...but whitney looks out the window to see where his body lies, and sees he has vanished. Meanwhile, Bobby Zane, humiliated by his fiances' perceived betrayal and sickened that she is in fact a "dirty Zombo", has hit the laboratory and turned his zombie repellent into zombie poison, a new deadly super weapon meant not to cure, but to wipe out zombie-kind forever. 

While this goes on, the nation further delves into chaos. Since there is no visual way to tell zombies from humans, everyone is suspected of being a zombie. McCarthy era trials are happening all over the country to people on all levels of society in order to find and ostracize all zombies and their families. Chaos rains as the country tears itself apart, where humans and zombies alike caught in the crossfires. Whitney works to help her country restore order, when in the midst, Brian returns with a horror the likes of which no one has ever seen before: he has turned his intelligence agents into zombies, thus making an army of zombie ninja spies! They begin to decimate the population as Whitney scrambles to gather her own defenses, it appears that it is too late, while one day her ex-fiance Bobby Zane bursts into her bunker and gives her a newly made zombie poison super bomb. Simply drop it in the middle of Newmerica, and all zombies will die instantly in the blast. High profile zombies will be protected in the bunkers. Still... Whitney faces a serious moral dilemma. But is there any other way...?
1:34 PM 
Leading the world's first zombie and human army, she makes her decision.
13 minutes
1:47 PM 
me: Sending the newly crazed Bobby Zane into an asylum, Whitney hides the Zombie poison in her presidential safe. She calls on a few of her former zombie-friends, who are now living in exile out in Namibia, and asks them to round up all of the zombies they know. She plans a world peace conference among Zombies as they meet in DC to discuss their next course of action. Upon gathering the peaceful zombies together, Whitney opens the conference with an oscar-winning speech addressing her own shortcomings, identifying herself as "only human." She wipes a tear away, and boldly proclaims that zombies and humans can coincide. Zombies everywhere throughout the conference room are touched, resolving to ignore their thirst for blood and to make the world a better place. The conference is then interrupted by 

Brian and his rogue, blood-thirsty zombies. Brian's appearance has changed dramatically. He now has reverted to the dull gray of pre-humanized zombies and his eyes have faded to a thick gray. He laughs maniacally, holding back his army of fresh zombies, as he mocks the idea of peace between the humans and zombies. He announces that any zombies who stand in their way of total annihilation are part of the enemy, and that he will start his quest for world domination by killing all the zombies at this conference against his cause. 

A bloody battle ensues. Women, children, and racial minorities are slaughtered and eaten. Brian leaves the carnage to look for Whitney, who has altered Bobby's poison to become airborne and stored in her pocket in case of an emergency. He finally finds her in the vent shaft of the conference center, attempting to wipe out the zombie population altogether, thus ending zombie existence as we know it. They struggle, fighting and smashing into electrical boxes and spilling each other's blood on the metal grated floors. Brian slashes Whitney's arm, opening an artery that causes her to bleed profusely. Suddenly, Brian's eyes brighten, and he sees in Whitney's hand a crushed daisy. He asks where she got it from and Whitney replies that it belonged to Brian's daughter, Aurelia, who sought to make the world a better place. She hands it to him and weakly tells him to remember, finally closing her eyes and passing away. Brian is torn, feeling the primal urge to drink Whitney's free-flowing blood while ultimately wanting to end this battle once and for all. He takes the manufactured poison from her hand and throws it in the vent shaft, emitting fumes to throughout the entire conference center. Brian falls to his knees, slowly suffocating in the gas.
23 minutes
2:11 PM 
Brian: Brian, unaware that Aurelia was actually his daughter, and unaware that Whitney, the woman he had just killed, was also the woman who bore his child, remembering her sacrifice, sacrificed himself to save humanity, just as Aurelia did. A dark cloud emanates from the conference hall in DC where the meeting was taking place. It envelopes the city, reacting with the atmosphere, and spreads throughout the country. The world plunges into darkeness. The fighting stops as people everywhere begin to drop dead from the superweapon.
When the dust settles, the country of Newmerica stands still. There have been many causalities all over the country, but the carnage has stopped. Kristi, a non-zombie and the only other character to survive the original zombie carnage of the first episode but has strangely gone unmentioned throughout the rest of the series, leads the rebuilding as Brian’s right hand spy solider and the only one NOT to join his zombie rampage. In counting the casualties, it was discovered that, even though the bomb was meant to destroy all zombies, many zombies were left alive, and even many non-zombies were killed.

Curious… months of scientific study of the cadavers revealed that the super weapon gas, that was meant to react with the zombie chemicals in the blood, reacted instead with a different but very similar chemical produced by both zombies and humans: the chemical of hate.

Thus, all people, zombie or human, with an excessive amount of hate in their hearts were killed, while those without the hate chemical were spared. Kristi leads the people in the rebuilding, zombies and humans working together to make a better world. She becomes president, with a zombie as vice, and shares the new biological technology with other nations, which helps them eradicate hate and achieve peace in their own lands. Brian, Whitney, and Aurelia have shrines built in their honor. Thus, Newmerica, and the world, enter a new age of peace, where it’s not zombie blood that makes you a monster. It’s hate.
The End.