If that smelly fat fucker doesn't stop feeling my arse I'll deck him.A while back an ape called Mr Bubbles who was infected with the rage virus escaped from a research lab and started biting people, not only did this instill a fear of Primates in the younger ones that would last the rest of their short lives but it would also turn good folks into Zombies.
What you don't remember it? well my CIA training came into good use and in my weapons cupboard sitting beside a stack of porno mags and a broken clock that might come in useful someday was my Longbow Ultramax cricket bat, a weapon of choice for killers of both zombies and small animals.
I pulled it out and blew the dust off it, then I stroked the wood, but there was no time for that so I just lifted out the cricket bat remembering to tuck my lad back in.
I don't care what weemen say about child birth, pulling yer zip up and catching yer knob should be used to torture Iraqis, not that I'm saying its ok to torture Iraqis, ach who am I kidding torture away.
I went outside and saw the disheveled figure of Ernie the milkman lurching towards me, "thud" I smashed his skull in just in time to see little Timmy come up behind me, "No human flesh for you me lad" I shouted as "thud" his head caved in, oh they weren't zombies its just that they make far too much noise with clinking bottles and kicking a ball about, that Ernie fella shouldn't have been a milkman, not really a morning person so I did him a favour.
It wasn't long before the zombies got to Killamory, to my surprise I found that they accepted me as one of their own, probably due to me being kept alive by Voodoo, those automatic doors in shops don't open for me it can be annoying sometimes they call me the human fly as I keep beating myself against the glass doors trying to get in.
Zombies are dead on when you get talking to them, its not easy being a vain pretty young thing one minute and being mottled gray with bad hair funky eyes and dirty clothes, zombies always have to have dirty clothes, they end up like crackheads and don't care about their appearance, no zombie pride.
I for one enjoyed those zombie days, for a few pork chops I had all the zombie sex slaves I could hope for I got my car waxed for a steak and kidney pie, not a bad job either of course it rained the next day.
After a week or two my zombies started to smell it reminded me of when I lived among the English, they don't wash you know, they just mask the smell with talc, true story that.
As the song goes, "If you love zombie set them free" so I did, I watched them with a tear in my eye as they lurched towards the nice young family 3 doors doon but it was all for the better they were happy, well until the bloody soldiers showed up and mowed them doon.
I went outside and saw the disheveled figure of Ernie the milkman lurching towards me, "thud" I smashed his skull in just in time to see little Timmy come up behind me, "No human flesh for you me lad" I shouted as "thud" his head caved in, oh they weren't zombies its just that they make far too much noise with clinking bottles and kicking a ball about, that Ernie fella shouldn't have been a milkman, not really a morning person so I did him a favour.
It wasn't long before the zombies got to Killamory, to my surprise I found that they accepted me as one of their own, probably due to me being kept alive by Voodoo, those automatic doors in shops don't open for me it can be annoying sometimes they call me the human fly as I keep beating myself against the glass doors trying to get in.
Zombies are dead on when you get talking to them, its not easy being a vain pretty young thing one minute and being mottled gray with bad hair funky eyes and dirty clothes, zombies always have to have dirty clothes, they end up like crackheads and don't care about their appearance, no zombie pride.
I for one enjoyed those zombie days, for a few pork chops I had all the zombie sex slaves I could hope for I got my car waxed for a steak and kidney pie, not a bad job either of course it rained the next day.
After a week or two my zombies started to smell it reminded me of when I lived among the English, they don't wash you know, they just mask the smell with talc, true story that.
As the song goes, "If you love zombie set them free" so I did, I watched them with a tear in my eye as they lurched towards the nice young family 3 doors doon but it was all for the better they were happy, well until the bloody soldiers showed up and mowed them doon.
I'm suing the Ministry of Defense for pain and suffering over that one and I'm not talking about the zombie clap I picked up.
