Cul de Sac by Richard Thompson for May 25, 2013

That building doesn’t look big enough to be a body shop. (Zombies need a lot of space.)

You will be upgraded.

Dill got it right once again. That is definitely what schools are for.

Yes Dill. Zombies like pickles.

Beni is the author of this bit of kid’s mythology. Dill’s finishing comment is hilariously self-aware.

Ha! The Signature Theatre down in Shirlington used to be in an old converted body shop.

… out of the mouths of babes.

“Zombie Custom Body and Paint”Now there is a catchy name. In the competitive industry, that will insure customers will be rushing to its door. “Do they paint bodies or customize zombies?” On the other hand, some of the body shops I frequented when I was still working appeared to employ zombies.

Architecturally significant is usually in the eye of the beholder.There was a body shop about that size in Merrifield, Va. which resembled an old world Hansel and Gretel style cottage, decorated with all manner of gingerbread and kitch: wooden canes, whirlygigs, gargoyles, brass donkeys. Of course, there was a big “oven” inside so they could “bake” cars, but mostly you saw guys working outside of it. Progress came. First, a shopping center was built around it, then Metro arrived and land values soared. Finally, the building was demolished for a new highway overpass.

You need to meet old body shop workers. Filing lead body work and paint and being continuously immersed in paint fumes is the background life story of most zombies.

I have always wondered how this little building on a big plot of land came to be, and how Miss Bliss could afford it. Toxic fumes lowered the price, no doubt.