I stood around watching the monitors for about 5 seconds before I got bored. I had things to do, so I had Otis watch the monitors for me. He had told me about some man with a machete in the hardware store, so I made investigating that my next mission. I have all sorts of strong blades to use, but what could be more honorable than using the weapon of the great master Voorhees?
I had to hike to the north plaza again, but it didn’t take long this time. I made a shake combining my two favorite things to get ready: wine and pie. When I drank the mixture, my entire body accelerated, my legs moved at an incredible speed and I zoomed across the park and outran the jeep-drivers. Once the effects of the serum wore off though, I felt depressed, as though I would never run that fast again.
It seems the mixture of pie and wine became a substitute for cocaine! That explains how the drug lords were able to smuggle it! They didn’t! All they had to do was order lots of wine and pies, then put them in a blender once they were dropped off! This is a breakthrough in the case! All the authorities need to know (except for Brad and Jessie, because they’d arrest me for possession), and that is all the more motivation to get out of here!
I noticed a lot of purple posters pasted throughout the
each decorated with some sort of eye on it.
Optometry must be booming around here with all the red eye the zombies get. North Plaza
Surprisingly, the hardware store the machete man was supposed to be in was zombie-free. The only zombies in there were hanging up on the ceiling strung up by their ankles and decapitated, getting blood all over the floor. Someone had already done my job for me.
Suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, the man himself demanded my name and rank. I needed a moment to remember my name and rank in the Kiss army, but he took that pause a different way and said that I couldn’t remember because I was Viet-Kong!
Mere words cannot express the shock I felt in that very moment. Was I really Vietnamese? Was I a sleeper agent for the Viet-Kong with my memories altered through mind manipulation? Who was to say I was really Frank West? Would my Vietnamese superiors execute me if I didn’t execute my mission? What was my mission? I made an educated guess that fighting Americans took top priority and attacked him.
Also, the man said that I was going to tell him where gorillas were hiding out, and that he was going to beat the information out of me. He may have been American, but I respected his journalistic values. I, however, was fighting for what I thought was my own country.
“Aye ahm going to FAWK yu ahp!”
He fought dirty, that’s for sure. He spent a lot of our fight hiding around the store, trying to sneak attack me and toss smoke bombs on top of the aisles to distract me. What’s more, he kept fast-traveling around the store using his own personal series of tunnels under trapdoors. I would have followed him through them, but he projected some kind of force field that wouldn’t let me go in. I took a picture of him in the act though, thinking I could use the picture as evidence of American tactics for my superiors.
He got the drop on me a couple of times and managed to completely impale me so deeply I could see the end of the blade coming out my front. Luckily he missed my vitals. Twice.
|This is worse than the time I scraped my knee!|
It’s a good thing he chose to do all this in the hardware store. It has all manner of weapons to kill him with. It was just like the ad said! It had allen wrenches, gerbil feeders, toilet seats, electric heaters, trash compactors, juice extractors, shower rods and water meters, walkie-talkies, copper wires, safety goggles, radial tires, BB pellets, rubber mallets, fans and dehumidifiers, picture hangers, paper cutters, waffle irons, window shutters, paint removers, window louvers, masking tape and plastic gutters, kitchen faucets, folding tables, weather stripping… Well, you know.
I broke the chainsaw I got from that clown in the fight, but he didn’t last long after that. I thought I had won the day for communism, but I was sadly mistaken.
Right before he died, the machete man told me that his daughter was eaten and he thought he was still in the war, meaning that I’m not a sleeper agent after all. It almost makes me regret mashing him into a pulp, but I came out of the ordeal with some value.
All that was in his wallet was a key and a picture of his family, both of which were worthless, but I did get his machete, which I don’t think he’ll need anymore. I had tried looking around the store to see where they kept the machetes during the fight, but he must’ve gotten the last one.
|That your brother? He's got a nice 'stache. He's like Mario... Wait, if he's Mario, are you Luigi? Did I just kill Luigi?! Did Luigi fight in 'nam?|
I need to be more aware of my surroundings though. As soon as I looked up, after only a couple of minutes, the entire store was swarming with zombies. These things are FAST! I thought I heard someone screaming for help, but after avoiding zombies to look around the store for the source, I just left. I’m hearing the voices again!
Having done what I came to do, I set out to go stake out the monitors again. It was on the way there that I ran into… Them.
|"Behold! I got this 50% off at Medieval Times!"|
A group of dudes in raincoats were gathered around a wooden box they slipped a woman in while an old dude (the leader, apparently) gave them a lecture about how they can save themselves from the apocalypse by purging tainted blood or some poop. I didn’t realize there were so many other survivors.
|"Probably because we keep killing people, but..."|
The old dude was presumably going to drive the sword down on the box and kill the woman inside, which doesn’t seem like purging so much as it does killing, but who am I to question someone else’s religion? I was ready to take a great picture of the sword skewering the crate, with blood shooting out the cracks, but he stopped when he noticed me, no doubt because of my flashy, blinding good looks.
When I caught everyone’s attention I got a good look at their faces. They were all wearing rather familiar-looking green masks.
|They must've been out of white ones at the party shop.|
I had stumbled upon the dreaded Scream fanclub, where everyone wears a Ghost Face mask and carries a knife around. The leader told the guys in the mask that I had to be purged too, either for not liking the Scream movies (“non-believer”) or having tainted blood. Considering I drank half a gallon of cocaine earlier, my blood probably wouldn’t pass their drug test. The leader must’ve seen it with his blood-analyzing x-ray vision. A useful ability, I’m sure.
I can’t deny I never really liked the Scream movies very much either. The only thing I worship is our lord and savior: Mormon Jesus.
Suddenly the leader vanished into thin air and the fan club members around the crate multiplied! Apparently worshipping Scream grants you the powers of sorcery! I was all ready to join right then and there, but applications must be closed because all the members just attacked me.
Using my cunning intellect, I defeated the lot of them by shuffle dancing to the Mormon Jesus song, throwing them off-guard before suddenly saying “hammer time!” and slamming the fudge out of them with a hammer I picked up at the hardware store.
They didn’t go down without a fight. In addition to their knives, they were all carrying their own sticks of dynamite too! Only they didn’t throw their explosives. They tried to blown them up in my face for a kamikaze attack! These are some of the most dedicated fans I’ve ever seen. They’re willing to die for their cause! I can’t help but admire that.
The best part is I saved the woman in the crate! I was able to escort her all the way back to the security room without accidentally killing her! I honest to god rescued someone! It’s a miracle! That makes three people for our rations! We’re going to eat like kings!
But now I have a bunch of angry fanboys around the mall trying to kill me in addition to the zombies. Also I think they killed Kent, because I haven't seen him since his challenge. Sometimes life just hates you.