Cuts to JT using a meat grinder to slice up some of his BBQ. He is seen talking on the phone and throwing his dog a cut of meat.

JT:
I know it sounds a little arrogant puttin’ up a sign -- “Best damn barbecue in Texas… Period.” But, hell… Who’s gonna come in here and argue about that? Oh, yeah. Big contest comin’ up. Mmm. I’m working on the perfect sauce. (looks out the window to see someone standing outside). Yeah. That’ll put me on the Food Channel. Put this place back on the map where it belongs. I’ll talk to you later.

JT hangs up the phone and walks outside with a plate of his barbecue.

JT:
Can I interest y’all in a plate of soon-to-be-award-winnin’ barbecue?

The camera cuts back and now we see that there are two people standing outside.

JT: (laughing)
You’re from Dinky’s, ain’t ya? Well you tell ‘at sumbitch he thinks he’s gonna come over here and get my recipes… Well, I got a double-barreled answer to his query right inside. (Holding up a rib, takes a bite) God damn that’s good.

JT turns back around and walks inside before the camera turns back to the zombies and zooms in on their faces (to show us they weren’t regular people).

Cuts back to the hospital entrance with two EMT’s pushing more gurney’s.

EMT:
Doctor Block! Three fresh ones rollin’ in!

Bill:
Christ, you’re kidding.

EMT:
Automobile accident off of Highway 18.
Bill: (inserts thermometer into his mouth)
DOAs?... Have Andy pick ‘em up.

EMT:
He’s already on 620 picking up another two.

Bill:
Fucking Wednesday nights.

EMT: (about thermometer)
That’s unsanity doc.

Bill: (becoming frustrated, uncovering the bodies)
Not if I’m the only one using it. Helps me monitor my state of calmness.

EMT:
Yeah, don’t get all worked up enough to crack it.

Bill:
Fuck.

EMT:
You might cut yourself pretty good.

Bill:
Then I’d know that I was not calm.
Bill uncovers the third body and bites down on his thermometer, cracking it in his mouth.

EMT:
Yeah, what do you say now, doc?

Bill: (drooling out the remnants of the thermometer)
Somebody call my wife.