Hmmm, zombies huh? Let me check the closet here…
Silver bullets? No, thats not right. Wooden Stakes, holy water? No, no, no, no wrong type of infestation. Ahhh, here we go…
Cleansing fire. Scylla, just hold up that bitten ankle and we’ll cauterize the wound with my blow torch.
I had a similar problem when I was living in Atlanta. Except instead of Zombies, they were drunks.
And instead of Brains, they were looking for Ice. At 2 AM. Bastards.
As far as your infestation goes, you could try to dispatch them as follows…
When they come ‘a knockin’, answer the door naked, and before they have a chance to mumble “Ice?” (or “Brains”, in your case), exclaim “Ah-HA! Great to see you! Come on in!”
::take Zombie by elbow and usher them in::
“Have you heard the Good News About Jesus*?” Be persistant.
*Note: “Jesus” can be used interchangably with “Allah”, “Og”, or “Free Love”.
Or I could come over and dispatch them with Witty Banter and Kung Fu™. Let me know.
Your dog can swing a baseball bat? Now that I’d like to see.
Geesh, you must be living next door to my ex mother-in-law.
Don’t worry Scylla, it’s just pink eye.
Thank you for calling Zombie Control. In an effort to improve customer assistance, this call may be recorded.
If you are in need of immediate help, please hang up and dial 911 for local assistance. If the police and fire departments have become a large pack of mindless brain-eaters, please contact your local group of beer-swilling, camoflauge truck driving, blaze-orange wearing, pig-feet eating rednecks. If you are the only survivor locked in a large country house, please press 3 and wait for an operator.
If you believe that you have been infected by a zombie, ghoul, ghast, skeleton, mummy, wraith, vampire, lich, ghost, or other undead, please be prepared to answer the following questions:
When attacked…
Were you wearing a red shirt and obscene pair of really tight capri pants?
Did you continually trip and fall as an unseen camera attempted to zoom up your hiney?
Were you with your cynical friend who suddenly stopped and said “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Had you just finished having sex?
If you answered “Yes” to any of the preceding questions, please hang up. You’re fucked.
If you answered “No” to all of the preceding questions, it is a mere flesh wound.
If you need to speak with an operator, please stay on the line.
Thank you for calling Zombie Control.
[hijack]Ol’Gaffer, we’ve been trying to perfect the script for our automated phone system in Animal Control. With a few minor changes, yours looks just about perfect. Mind if I steal it?[/hijack]
Daniel
Hmmm … I don’t know much about zombie inflicted wounds. You say that the wound is black, that can’t be a good sign. Best advice I have on that is don’t pick at it.
As far as avoiding future zombies, I might be able to help. You mentioned you had a problem with groundhogs before. My grandma always had a problem with gophers, and gophers are like groundhogs, I guess. What she would do is stick glass bottles into the holes so that when the gophers would come up they’d hit their heads on the bottle and supposedly, their neck would break. So what you should do is find, like a bunch of really BIG glass bottles and then put them in the ground above the graves. That way when the zombies come up they end up killing themselves by smashing their brittle skulls into the glass bottles.
A little squirt of Windex on that ankle should do it, Scylla. I understand that Windex can cure anything.
I can’t really help you, Scylla, but I do have a request of my own…
Could you just go ahead and die already so I don’t have to buy three different game systems just to play the entire story to its completion?
Though it might be pretty cool to play as your wife and finally take you out for the last time…or is it? Dumdumdum…
Dang, Myth, that’s cold, man!
But see, I know he won’t really die, because the parent company that created the zombies will keep having the same accidents in their labs worldwide, thereby resurrecting Scylla and the town inhabitants over and over again just to get me buy the Playstation78 and GameOctagon and ZBox and…
Bitter? Of course I’m not bitter! What makes you say I’m bitter? Did a zombie tell you that?
Nah, it was that guy that hangs out at 13th and Battery and asks for spare change.
“Myth is bitter. You wouldn’t have 3.50 on you, would ya’? Got any brains? Any liver?”
I shan’t be visiting you anytime soon, if even the beggars eat brains in your neck of the woods. At least Scylla has the whole undead-fresh-from-the-grave excuse. (Cemetaries - de FreshMaker!)
And what self-respecting monster eats liver?
I guess they saw “Night Of The Living Dead” at the funeral home or something.
Be my guest. But, it is not my fault if you forget to remove the profanity and Mrs. Bumbleburger gets irate because she called to find out if it was still okay to kiss Capt. Dandy Boots Kitty full on the lips and she heard the word “fuck.” 