So, The Walking Dead returned last night with a new episode. Even though I know most of us are still reeling from the mid-season finale (sorry Dale/Beth shippers), the writers and producers decided to *spoiler alert* give us an episode full of emotion. An artistic take on the usually macabre tale.
It was good. Even if another favorite died. Seriously, we can’t have them [at least I can’t]. It just goes to show you that The Walking Dead will end the same as Game of Thrones (winter wins?). OK, maybe not exactly the same.
Instead of a snow covered battlefield covered in blood and, perhaps, a white walker milling around, we’ll see a field of walkers and the last, lone survivor staring at it. He or she will then turn–somehow–and wander into the field to join his companions in their long march toward never-ending undeath.
Of course, now that I’ve guessed the ending the writers and producers will most likely switch it. Instead, it’ll be happy. The last group survives, even thrives, while the stigma of walkers remains outside the walls (it worked for Woodbury…).
Wait. Now that I’ve written that, it won’t happen either. Hmm…maybe I should stop guessing and just keep watching. And hopefully, someone will remain alive. Though, the odds it’ll be an original are quickly diminishing. And the new folk are dropping off, too. Crap. We’re screwed. The zombies will win. They’ve got numbers, they’re unconcerned about injury, and they’re hungry. Always hungry.