Ah, zombies. I never know what to say when The Horde comes to town -- I feel like everyone else is so much better than I am at the cowering and the fortifying and the taking stock of available provisions. I also suspect the zombies sometimes mistake me for one of their kind. But I've come up with a HORRIBLE PUNCHLINE, so here's a tiny piece of my apocalypse, just for you:
I open the front door to my best friend, who is smeared with mud and carrying the kind of gun (or possibly rifle?) the people usually telling this kind of story always seem to know how to name.
"[Allothi]!" she says. "You're still alive!"
"Yeah, just about, a little tired, now that you mention it..."
"There's been a zombie apocalypse!"
"Oh," I say. "Um." But I know the correct response to all personal, political, natural and apocalyptical disasters: "Cup of tea?"
"Ooh, yes please! Do you still have any Rose Pouchong left?"
I do.
Later, we take to the streets. They are littered with the bodies of redead and redying zombies.
"What happened to them?" I ask.
"They discovered deep-fried Mars Bars." My friend shakes her head, with a sigh. "All that cholesterol and sugar. Wreaks havoc with the zombie constitution."
Ah, the deep fat fryer. Scotland's natural defence against apocalupseis.
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I open the front door to my best friend, who is smeared with mud and carrying the kind of gun (or possibly rifle?) the people usually telling this kind of story always seem to know how to name.
"[Allothi]!" she says. "You're still alive!"
"Yeah, just about, a little tired, now that you mention it..."
"There's been a zombie apocalypse!"
"Oh," I say. "Um." But I know the correct response to all personal, political, natural and apocalyptical disasters: "Cup of tea?"
"Ooh, yes please! Do you still have any Rose Pouchong left?"
I do.
Later, we take to the streets. They are littered with the bodies of redead and redying zombies.
"What happened to them?" I ask.
"They discovered deep-fried Mars Bars." My friend shakes her head, with a sigh. "All that cholesterol and sugar. Wreaks havoc with the zombie constitution."
Ah, the deep fat fryer. Scotland's natural defence against apocalupseis.