Editor’s Note: Don’t get us wrong, we are as obsessive as any TWD fans. But let others pontificate at length. In our view, the show’s narrative conflict is so essential—living vs. undead, civility vs. anarchy, prey vs. predator—that it demands to be distilled in the purest form possible. What better serves that purpose than haiku?
Season 4, Episode 2: Jailhouse Infection!
Tyreese gets lucky?
Croons a Cole Porter standard.
Alas! Doomed romance.
Patrick wrecks havoc.
Goes for the jugular. Ew!
(Also, intestines.)
Those Woodbury folks
are mostly zombie chow now.
Didn’t learn their names.
New strain of swine flu?
Hershel: “We’ve all been exposed.”
Jailhouse infection!
Oh, Glenn and Maggie!
So adorable. So doomed?
No. At least not yet.
Daryl and Carol:
she mother figure or MILF?
Relationship vague.
Baby Judy plays
with red Solo cups. Future
sorority girl?
Michonne’s a badass.
With Achilles heel. (Ankle?)
Secret baby blues.
Carol teaches kids
that killing walkers is fun.
The others don’t know.
Walkers storm the fence.
Poke them with some pointed sticks.
But more will show up.
Carl’s voice is changing.
“Can I have my gun back yet?”
Rick relents. Armed teen.
Tragic bacon fest!
Rick sacrifices his pigs.
Heartbroken hero.
Bring out the bodies.
Medieval method of
contagion control.
