chaos, explosions, anarchy, and a partridge in a pear tree
Anarchy.
What a shitty time to have a gimped leg.
I can't run, I can barely crutch around. I was supposed to head to the hospital this morning for a check up. What a joke.
I went outside for a cigarette this morning, and glanced over at the neighbours yard. I saw their dog, Zoro, tearing into a three year old girl. I was sort of in shock so I just stood there, watching as he gnawed away, snarling and worrying at her.
Across the street I saw the joggers, only they weren't jogging. Sort of hop-slide-dragging themselves up the street. Towards me.
I put out my cigarette and went inside.
My brother didn't come home last night - I guess I'm the last one left down here. I guess hiding out in my house with my gimp leg sort of payed off.
I aint going out like that. What to do?
I went downstairs and got the gas can. There wasnt that much left in it.
I can hear the pounding on the walls. Fuck you, fuckin zombies, If I have to go, I'm going with a bang and a smile.
I spread the gas out all over the basement. That pretty much did it for the can, but o, inspiration - theres the gas heater in the laundry room.
It was kind of hard to get a good swing, kind of hard to do anything with the gimp leg. but I did it, I broke the container, it spurted hot gas every which where.
I got a bit burned, but what do I care at this point.
I went and got a mop. I heard the garage door start to go.
I mopped that gas up and rang it out all over the house. It's at times like this I wish I had some kind of a shotgun - at least I could do some more damage before I go out, but fuck, I'm gonna go down fighting, and take as many of those fucking what-ever-they-are's with me.
I ain't religious, but I said a quick prayer, the most powerful one I know. I said it twice.
Then I went and got my pack o' smokes and popped one.
They say these thing's will kill you. haha.
I got a poker from the fire place and an antique sword off the wall. Then I threw my cast away, along with the crutches and walked on the broken leg. It hurt like a bitch but I don't really give a fuck right now - adrenaline and rage should cover me for the few minutes I need.
Swing open the front door, alarm goes off - why not, we paid for it.
I cut the first fucker up - they move slow so my aching slow leg makes it even.
I cut the second fucker up and take a deep drag off the smoke in my mouth. Fuck I wish I had some Jack Daniels to wash it down.
The third fucker I chop his hand off but it still goes on its own and works its way into my achilles tendon. I go down. The zombies pile in ...
KA-BOOOOOOOM!!!!
What a shitty time to have a gimped leg.
I can't run, I can barely crutch around. I was supposed to head to the hospital this morning for a check up. What a joke.
I went outside for a cigarette this morning, and glanced over at the neighbours yard. I saw their dog, Zoro, tearing into a three year old girl. I was sort of in shock so I just stood there, watching as he gnawed away, snarling and worrying at her.
Across the street I saw the joggers, only they weren't jogging. Sort of hop-slide-dragging themselves up the street. Towards me.
I put out my cigarette and went inside.
My brother didn't come home last night - I guess I'm the last one left down here. I guess hiding out in my house with my gimp leg sort of payed off.
I aint going out like that. What to do?
I went downstairs and got the gas can. There wasnt that much left in it.
I can hear the pounding on the walls. Fuck you, fuckin zombies, If I have to go, I'm going with a bang and a smile.
I spread the gas out all over the basement. That pretty much did it for the can, but o, inspiration - theres the gas heater in the laundry room.
It was kind of hard to get a good swing, kind of hard to do anything with the gimp leg. but I did it, I broke the container, it spurted hot gas every which where.
I got a bit burned, but what do I care at this point.
I went and got a mop. I heard the garage door start to go.
I mopped that gas up and rang it out all over the house. It's at times like this I wish I had some kind of a shotgun - at least I could do some more damage before I go out, but fuck, I'm gonna go down fighting, and take as many of those fucking what-ever-they-are's with me.
I ain't religious, but I said a quick prayer, the most powerful one I know. I said it twice.
Then I went and got my pack o' smokes and popped one.
They say these thing's will kill you. haha.
I got a poker from the fire place and an antique sword off the wall. Then I threw my cast away, along with the crutches and walked on the broken leg. It hurt like a bitch but I don't really give a fuck right now - adrenaline and rage should cover me for the few minutes I need.
Swing open the front door, alarm goes off - why not, we paid for it.
I cut the first fucker up - they move slow so my aching slow leg makes it even.
I cut the second fucker up and take a deep drag off the smoke in my mouth. Fuck I wish I had some Jack Daniels to wash it down.
The third fucker I chop his hand off but it still goes on its own and works its way into my achilles tendon. I go down. The zombies pile in ...
KA-BOOOOOOOM!!!!