2. Seriously, Carl. Stay in the house
3. Carl, I don’t want to yell but it’s the middle of the zombie apocalypse and we’re going to need you to stay close by.
4. Okay, buddy. Can you be a good little sheriff and stay put? I don’t know, guard the living room. Yes, okay here’s a special hat and you are officially on duty to protect the couch cushions. Just stay in the house.
5. Carl, I’d ground you but it seems a bit trite what with the hordes of Zombies outside trying to eat our faces.
6. Remember what happened when another little kid wandered off alone? You were here for that.
Check out College Humor for the rest of the list. Seriously couldn’t be more spot-on. Walking Dead is a GREAT show – not on a Breaking Bad/The Wire/early Dexter level, but it’s pretty awesome. Except when this little shit just wanders in & sucks the suspense out of every other scene. I almost feel like he’s not even an actor but the director’s kid just walking around aimlessly, causing rewrite after rewrite. I can’t count how many times I’ve been on the edge of my couch wondering if, say, Rick is actually gonna pull the trigger and blast that kid in the barn before I’m like, “Holy shi…wait, what? No, Rick. You gotta…aaahhhh, FUCK YOU CARL!!!!” I was rooting for that walker to get out of the mud and gnaw Carl’s face off like a black chick at the movies. “Get that motherfucker!! Yeaaaahhh, Carl, you gonna get it now!!!” Never happened.
Truth be told though, Rick’s cunt wife took all the heat off Carl at the end of the last episode. Bitch has got some balls getting all pissy when she finds out Shane got clipped. Ungrateful twat. He just got done telling you how the guy who told you your husband was dead so he could slam you drew up an elaborate scheme & killed some kid so he could kill your husband. How he managed to turn the tide and plunge a knife into his best friend so the god damn father of your annoying child could live on. How, when he thought it was over, your annoying child finally grew a pair and shot zombie Shane in the dome with pinpoint accuracy. Now you’re gonna play the “Who are you? Don’t touch me!” card? Go fuck yourself.