Deep beneath the Denver International Airport, the corpse of Dick Clark is wheeled out of the cryogenic chamber to the center of a pentangle drawn on the floor of the re-animation chamber. Five red candles are lit. Eerie, unearthly chanting is piped in through unseen speakers in the ceiling. In a room nearby, being prepped for a series unorthodox blood transfusions, is an anxious Ryan Seacrest.
Dick Clark's animated corpse relaxes in a white bathrobe on the balcony of his Crowne Plaza hotel suite in downtown Denver. * A man from an unspecified government agency briefs him on key current events. To re-acquaint Zombie Dick Clark with his distant past, a television with the sound turned down plays old reruns of American Bandstand. In the adjoining room, being prepped for a series of hideous blood transfusions is a sobbing Stacy Ann Ferguson. Despite the best efforts of her competent attorneys, the contract is ironclad; she must endure the procedures.
* he is immune to cold.
Under cover of darkness, Zombie Dick Clark is whisked away in a black SUV to the furthest reaches of the Denver International Airport to a much-unused runway and an unmarked private jet. A lone passenger has already boarded and dreads his arrival; during the flight to New York, Zombie Dick Clark will receive the last of a series of horrifying blood transfusions. A sullen Christina Aguilera has sadly accepted her fate; the show must go on, yet she is overcome with ennui.
In New York, Zombie Dick Clark skips the rehearsal. He's done the big show since the dawn of time; he takes a copy of the show notes, but lets the living worry about the details. Free for the rest of the day, Zombie Dick Clark reserves Patsy's restaurant for himself. While his bored government handlers drink coffee in the kitchen, Zombie Dick Clark sits alone in a back booth. Otherwise, the place looks closed; the chairs are upside-down on the other tables. He insists the lights remain off. The windows provide a weak light that shrouds the historic eatery in a dusky gloom. The frightened wait staff loiters near the entrance, as Zombie Dick Clark orders nothing, and asks to be left alone. But he is not alone; he reminisces with the unseen ghosts of Ed McMahon and Johnny Carson. They are filled with sadness for simpler times.
Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, Don Cornelius feels an unexplained melancholy.
In the early morning hours, a specially designed refrigerated truck leaves New York, New York for Denver, Colorado.
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