When you love something, you want to share it with the world, and when it comes to shonen manga, anime and games, there are few with as much knowledge, skill and love as the Shonen Otaku. Join me as we look at the duel-filled settings and characters that give us our favorite stories. Expect a lot of fighting, exposition and silliness here in the Shonen Otaku Corner.
Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Night 2 Part 1
The answer cometh… Finally I am beginning to understand just
what the hell is going on in this city, and I am finally starting to get the
hang of rescuing other survivors through the art of killing.
I managed to kill the crazed yuppies driving around the park,
first by sniping them with my new 30-bullet magazine-armed sniper rifle, then
getting up close and personal with my new shotgun, and finishing off the driver
with my brilliant guitar playing the only way I know how. Guitars were just made for smashing and making
funny noises, and I’ll never let anyone tell me otherwise! As a reward, I helped myself to their mounted
machine gun, which helped me mow down many a zombie.
Even though I filled their skulls with shotgun shells,
sniper bullets and guitar strings, as well as saw their limp, dead bodies in
the car and checked their pulse, the
next time I went outside, they were good as new, riding around in their jeep
with a brand new machine gun, blaring their awful music. What the flying fu-
These were no
ordinary drug addicts, and they weren’t taking ordinary drugs. They must’ve taken a drug that resurrects
them after death! The same one used by
that Wesker guy! This could
revolutionize medicine! It’s the scoop
of the century! Too bad they’re annoying
poopheads who need to die, otherwise I’d take them in for questioning.
Anyway, even after killing the punks the first time I had time
before I had to meet with Isabella. I
got a notification from Otis that there were two survivors back at the entrance
plaza, so I loaded up on orange juice shakes in the food court and got ready.
It’s a good thing I did, because as soon as I came in, some inconsiderate man and his two kids tried to snipe me!
There was a wimpy one, a jerk one, and the older one that must be
related to the machete man because I swear they sound exactly the same.
There was some fatso hiding out in the cosmetics shop
nearby, but try as I might, I couldn’t get him to leave because he was afraid
of getting shot by the snipers.
I gave it to him straight: “Well boo freakin-hoo fatass! The least you could do is help me out and
block the bullets with your blubber, but apparently that would require too much
I was in it alone.
The wimpy sniper went down first. I showed him who the man was by countering
his tiny little sniper rifle with my giant phallic uber-gun from the jeep! I almost feel bad for gunning him into paste,
because, of the three, he seemed the most hesitant. On the other hand, he shot at me. As Ghandi once said, “An eye for an eye
leaves everyone equal.”
To protect myself from the other two snipers, I took cover
in the nearby antique shop, where the other stubborn survivor was hiding
out. We stood there for a good long
while, going back and forth while I tried to get him to come with me without
slapping him across the face, but he just!
Wouldn’t! Come! And while I was yammering with him, I got
shot. Shot, but not sniped.
I turned around and saw that the oldest of the snipers came
right into the shop for a close-up shot.
He seemed to have forgotten that sniper rifles were made for sniping, a mistake that cost him his
life. I quickly picked up a battle axe
from a nearby stand, and rather than run away, the sniper ran around the store
like a scared chicken while I chopped him into itty bitty pieces. If he sucked so much at close range, why did
he come into the shop? I can only assume
he wanted a close-up view of the beautiful antiques too. That axe got him as close as he could get, so
at least he died happy. To remember this
man’s humiliating defeat, I took a picture of his corpse. I call it “The dumbass.”
Right after brutally murdering his dad, I spotted the last
kid watching through the shop’s window just outside.
You want a turn?
He ran, but didn’t get far.
Unlike him, I’ve really been getting my cardio in the last few days. He got the axe too. This place had better have a damn good
janitor, because I made a huge mess in the shoe store.
With our assaulters dead, I spent another 5 minutes getting
the old fart to come with me and got the fatass out of the cosmetics shop. I barely managed to get them back to the HQ, partly
because the entrance plaza is pretty close to HQ, but they were some of the
most pathetic life forms I’ve ever seen!
The old man had to stop to take a breather every 5 seconds and fatass
couldn’t outrun a crawling baby with no legs!
I had to carry the old jerk halfway there! They’re lucky we need them or I’d just leave
them for dead! I don’t even know how they
survived before I got there considering the first rule of zombie survival!
While dropping the morons off I got an update from Jesse and
Brad. Finally, FINALLY I learned just what happened to Santa’s cabeza and what it
had to do with all this.
The drug lords were using Santa’s cabeza as a stronghold for
their drugs, and Dr. Barn Tree believes that the drugs created the zombies, and
they spread it around the city to try and kill the doc, who was researching
At first I thought that someone just spread a bunch of
zombie drugs around Willamette, but now I’ve
figured it out.
The drug lords shoved their drugs into Santa’s ears and nose
while he was sleeping to store them in his cabeza. Then they set it up so that some of the
zombie-making drugs dropped out of his cabeza and into Willamette
while he was traveling the world to deal with his toy business! And if those drugs turned Santa into a zombie
that means he is the zombie Santa
voiced by Gilbert Gottfreid!
Aye aye Dr. Charmy the Bee!
But if it was the drug lords that did it, and Isabela said I
created the zombies, does that mean I’m
a drug lord?! Have I been searching for
myself all this time?! How did I lose my
memories? I needed the truth. In the meantime I’ll just blame this whole
thing on my WEF and leave it at that.
I left to meet Isabela around midnight, but contrary to what
she promised, she did not bring Carlito.
I was waiting at the meeting place, but the only thing she brought in
with her was a zombie attacking her. I
didn’t want no zombie! I wanted Carlito!
They both laid there on the ground while the zombie munched
on her, but I didn't help. She did not
bring me what I wanted. She had to pay.
Then I realized if she died, I’d never find Carlito, so I
gave the zombie a bonk on the head and saved her, at least from the zombie.
In addition to the many many teeth marks she had just
gotten, Isabella had a huge wound on her arm.
I jokingly asked if she was bitten, but she didn’t laugh. Apparently Carlito shot her because now he
doesn’t trust anyone. She insisted he
didn’t mean to though. Just like how I
didn’t mean to shoot that wimpy sniper kid with my H.U.G.E.
I tried pouring some of my orange juice on the wound to see
if it would heal, but like with Brad, the blessed food and drinks didn’t have
any effect on them, and all she did was scream and kick. It’s as if they all
only work for me, but why?
I'm going to have to carry her, aren't I.
Somehow getting shot in the arm gave Isabella a horrible limp in her leg, so unless I wanted to stay up all night waiting for her, I was
left with no choice but to carry her all
the way back to HQ on piggy back!
She weighed a ton too! What the
hell does this bitch eat? Cement instead
of mashed potatoes and bricks instead of brownies?!
And of course that meant I had to carry her through all the
zombies, angry Scream fanboys, and the rescurrected convicts, one of whom I swear was taunting me. I also heard
Carlito on the intercom telling Isabella to come back and help him. I hope I find where he sent that from so I can
use it to announce that “Carlito eats shit!”
Miraculously I was able to completely avoid everything
trying to kill me for almost the entire trip, because I am just too damn
good. I turned the bitch over to Jesse
and Brad, explained the situation and now she’s in DHS custody. I don’t think Brad really cared until I
mentioned that the person who shot her was the same one who shot him.
Now it's personal.
I hope we’ll get to the questioning soon. I’m a big fan of Brad’s method.