I’ve had… Quite a morning. And after fighting a killer clown and running from a jeep full of drug addicts last night, that’s really saying something.
It all started when Jessie saw Dr. Barney on the security monitor being dragged away by what looked like my BFF, whom Jesse said probably called him to the mall in the first place. I assumed my BFF was taking him somewhere private for some Jack Bauer-style interrogation, but Brad seemed concerned for the doc’s safety.
Dr. Bummy was taken to the entrance plaza. Up to that point we had to take the long way there because the short way was grated off, but now Otis conveniently opened the way for us, so it only takes about a minute to get there instead of ten. It sure would have been convenient to do that before, Otis!
And he just had to open it just when my BFF was camping on the second floor with a sniper rifle and hanging Dr. Barn & B’s up for the zombies to chow on.
At first I thought my BFF was just trying his new weight gain program, but sniper rifles pierce through the body, so that couldn’t be it. Whatever he was doing though, it was wrong. As we took cover from his shots and Brad told me the game plan, a zombie walked up to us for a hug. However, before I could hug it back, my “BFF” blew its head off.
All that zombie wanted as a hug and he killed him in one shot without any hint of remorse! Nobody who kills innocent zombies can ever be considered my friend! From that moment onward, the man was no longer my BFF! He is now my WEF! Worst Enemy Forever!
He also got the zombie’s blood on my suit, which is an even bigger crime. He had to be punished. Punished with my new chainsaw!
And he’s not just a murderer. He’s a coward too. My WEF must’ve been the leader of the track team in high school, because this guy runs fast. I spent half the time running after him like Leatherface would to the Benny Hill show theme until I finally caught up and turned him into shredded meat. I don’t get why it’s so hard for me to run. I thought I was faster than this I’ve been chugging OJ, soda, wine and candy all day! I should be in top condition!
|Now I know how the clown felt.|
I took a few sniper bullets to the chest and a few bashes to the skull from his rifle, but I was able to wear him down and make him retreat. Before his escape though, he got one last shot at Brad, Brad got one last shot at him, and I got a few more shots with that gun I forgot I keep stored in my anus. Both shots I fired missed, but I looked cool, and in the end, isn’t that what really matters?
It wasn’t the multiple chainsaw gashes that injured him. It was Brad’s gun. He must use infused super-special Sam Jackson bullets.
It turns out Brad’s gunshot wounds were worse than we thought. Even though I’d been shot god knows how many times by a sniper rifle, an uzi, and a mounted machine gun, Brad’s handgun wound was somehow so severe, he needed medicine for it. I offered him some of my magical healing food and drinks for it instead, but after 2 minutes of him declining them and insisting he needed the medicine, he lost it for a moment and ordered me to “get the mothafuckin’ medicine!” How could I refuse such a polite request?
I really didn’t want to, since Otis told me the only place with any medicine was on the opposite side of the mall in the grocery store, which is in the
, which is zombie
At least I was able to arm myself with another three katanas in the cutlery shop next door to it. Just for giggles, I used them to carve “Frank wuz here” into one of the grocery store's shelves. Unlike the populated grocery stores I usually do that in, I was overjoyed at the thought of finally getting away with it, but when I tried to open the door to the pharmacy…
The manager yelled at me and said I came to vandalize his store! And he had that hot chick I saw in front of the Tyke Tots poster in his hazardous, pointy shopping cart! I didn’t want to get in trouble so I tried to change the subject by telling him I needed medicine.
He wasn’t having any of it. He was ready to do some shopping, and what he was in the market for was a Frank-kebab, but what he got instead was Frank’s boot up his butt.
What I don’t understand is why the girl got a harmless, non-lethal ride on the death cart, while I got blasted by his shotgun. I want a ride too mommy!
I think this manager may not be right in the head. He doesn’t seem to realize the power of the food his store carries. Every time I got injured I just took cover and ate whatever was nearby, and like all the other food in this mall, I got better immediately. I especially loved the baguettes. I ate about 6 of those 5-foot things in a row, each in 2 bites. I’m like a human wood chipper, but with bread instead of trees.
Just as I was jumping around the aisles to avoid shotgun fire, who better to call me than Otis, who kindly informed me that I was in the grocery store before getting cut off when I was shot. Naturally, he called me rude for cutting him off, because apparently he didn’t hear the screaming or shotgun fire in the background.
It’s a good thing I got those katanas, because they all broke taking the jerk down. I diced him like an onion in the Slap Chop! He had quite a long death rattle too.
I looted the body (after writing “I suck” in the guy’s blood right next to it), but all I found was an employee discount card, a picture of his happy family, and the key to the pharmacy, so at least I was able to get the medicine I went through hell for and bring it back for Brad.
Unfortunately, the chick in the cart ran away, but not before telling me that I (or rather, we people) “ruined Santa’s cabeza!” My knowledge of foreign languages may be shot (according to that voice in my head), but unless I’m mistaken, “cabeza” is Spanish for “head”. Has old Saint Nick suffered some kind of head trauma? Is that somehow the cause of this outbreak? Is it the evil zombie Santa voiced by Gilbert Gottfried? Dr. Barmy Jarmy seems to know something, but Jesse won’t let me listen in on their discussion of the matter.
So I have two options: go to the North Pole to ask Santa personally about his cabeza, or find that girl and beat the answers out of her. Gas is really expensive nowadays, so I’m going with option B.
P.S. I think Jesse might be suffering from some kind of head trauma herself. She only recently noticed there was blood on me after I spent the last day cutting down zombies and clowns. She also implied that I was scary-looking. Everyone knows insulting me is a stupid move that can cost you your life.
|It must've been from that girl... Or the clown, the store manager, the zombies, or Otis after I whacked him.|