Some time ago, shortly after medical school, a patient approached me to act in a TV series. He was a short German man with a disintegrating nose and a limp, and claimed he was directing a new television series based on the infamous “Night of the Living Dead,” one of the most famous zombie movies of all time.

I was in the middle of examining him when things became strange.

“Your blood pressure is good,” I said.

“It must be better than yours,” he said. “You look barely alive, like the zombies I’m filming for my TV show.”

“I feel like a walking zombie,” I admitted. “I was on call last night. Sorry about that, though it shouldn’t affect your treatment today.”

“I don’t care about my treatment. I’ll be fine. But, I want you to try out for my TV show. You seem like you’d be comfortable around my zombies.”

I consented and he arranged for the filming of my screen test in a wooded area of Queens, New York, just off the Grand Central Parkway.

A few days later I got a phone call from the director’s assistant.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get the part.”

I sort of felt relieved. “That’s okay.”

“Weren’t you his doctor?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“The director’s illness has progressed. He was moved to a leper colony.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “That seems quite unusual.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Did you check him for Leprosy?”

“No, I did not.”

“Leprosy is common in zombies,” the assistant said.

I paused for a second to let that sink in. “Ok, but he was a director, not a zombie.”

“Maybe that’s why the show failed.”

A few weeks later I received a package. Inside was a video of my screen test. There was no return address.

I never heard from either of them again.

© Richie Smith