I’m probably like you, except for my quasi-homelessness, my unusual cravings for chocolate shaped like human body parts, and my history of stalking women whose names don’t begin with vowels. But I’m different in that…I can’t wait for a real zombie plague! Sure skeptics will say this can’t happen, or they’ll list a bunch of ‘scientific evidence’ discounting the possibility. I ignored science in high school and college, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to start paying attention to it now.
Come on, a zombie plague would be great fun. You can shoot everyone you don’t like in the head and all the beer is free! Hell, I can even move into a millionaire’s home on the edge of town like it’s…er, the apocalypse.
So anyway, you can imagine how happy I was to find out that someone had just been mauled and half eaten only a few blocks from where I was bumming beers from Zano. “Sure, sure, Mick, each beer equals another Discord feature. I think I’m in the red until 2017.”
I was just telling him how an order of chicken wings would give me the strength to work late into the night, when this girl came in screaming. First, I thought she was mad at the way Mick was staring at her torn blouse, but then I saw the blood.
“Someone is eating my boyfriend!” she cried.
After Zano and I gave each other big high fives, we pushed all the good Samaritans—treating her for shock—out of the way and demanded she tell us where this attack took place. I had to slap her a few times to get her to tell me where it was. This ticked a few people off, but I said, “Shut the hell up. She’s in shock. Haven’t you seen any old movies? You always slap the hysterical woman.” Some people’s heads are too far up their asses to enjoy the classics. Later I found out that most Adult Protective Services workers don’t seem to watch much AMC either. I hope my probation officer does.
Without further delay, we sprinted to the scene. Worries tugged at my mind. What if a cop kills the guy before he can infect a lot of people and the plague is stopped? What if the zombie has wandered off and we aren’t the first that get to see it? What if not enough people die for us to get that free beer? There had to be a way to make sure things kick into gear.
Then, there it was, larger than life (even though it was hopefully dead) and covered with blood. Yes, a real zombie crouched over the dead guy and he was chowing down on his innards.
Step one: Take loads of pictures.
Step two: Text all my friends.
Step three: Try to grab the guy’s wallet and the zombie’s wallet without being bitten. Hey, beers aren’t free yet.
I got the dead guy’s wallet, but I had attracted its attention and the grizzly blood splattered corpse started coming at me.
“Zano! Zano! I’ll distract it. See if you can grab the zombie’s wallet!”
“What? I’m not doing that!”
“Oh come on, don’t be a wuss.” I kept trying to get him to do it, but then it was too late. The Flagstaff PD showed up and ruined everything. Not only did we not get the extra wallet, but they stopped the whole damn apocalypse by shooting the guy in the head, those bastards. Goody two shoes, sons o’ *&%^*&^*&^*)*!
The local paper later blamed it on “bath salts.” Riiiight. So now we are back in the bar and the zombie only had about forty bucks on him. But he did have some credit cards and I know the girl with the torn blouse is single, but damn it her name begins with an A. Crap.