The 100-Post Milestone

2 years ago I created the Shonen Otaku Corner as a way to share my writing and love of fictional media.  Starting with my very first post ever on the second season of Yu Yu Hakusho I've written many game and anime (mostly game) feature stories that have given me excellent practice, strong examples of my skills and at least some recognition.  With over 50,000 page views and some posts shared on official and fan Facebook pages, I'm modestly proud at how this blog has turned out.

I wasn't sure what I could do for something as special as my 100th post.  Different online personalities have done them in different ways (Linkara's rant on Spider Man: One More Day for his 200th comes to mind).  But my reviews and articles come on a case-by-case basis, and I didn't have anything planned for my 100th post.

So instead of a new review or the second part of the Mortal Kombat post, I thought I'd make this 100th post special by making it about the thoughts and processes that go into my writing instead of the end result.  Specifically, the three big projects you can see in the tabs at the top of the page and how they came into being.

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Overtime, Final

It’s over.  Truly, finally over, except this time I mean that in a relieved way instead of a panicked way.  Our government is ready to implode in on itself, all the zombies are being taken care of, and I scored a pimpin’ new ride with a hot chick in it.  However, I was not able to save what I truly loved.  All I can do for my beloved now is write this so that their memory lives on.

I got the stuff on Isabella’s shopping list like she asked.  The entire time I had to deal with both armed guards and little armed remote control helicopters with guns built into them.  I don’t even know how they store all the bullets those things fire, let alone keep them afloat while the recoil is hammering back at them.  I was shot up so much it got boring, so I made a little game and tried to catch bullets with my teeth.  I was only able to pull it off once.

Source

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Overtime, Part 1

I thought I could get away from this mess, but it was all for nothing.  All my struggles and all my violence have amounted to absolutely nothing, and for all I know, Otis changed his name and fled the country.

It’s all because of that stupid asshole Kakashi!  He came back at exactly the right time, and at first I appreciated his uncanny punctuality.  We were waving at each other giving our best cheers of joy that we succeeded and were making it out alive.  But Kakashi didn’t follow rule 31 of Zombieland!  Did he think this was just a brony riot or something?!

"What?  Something behind me?  Just the media oppression of the modern-day government dude!"

And how the hell did that thing sneak into the back seat without Kakashi knowing?  That zombie is a better ninja than he is!

With my ride a firey pile of scrap, I was ready to just sit down and die.  After all, with no helicopter, how was I going to get back my Twinkies?  The mall didn’t sell them, and the UBCS probably already shot them up for funsies.  I sat there on the helipad and contemplated my life.  The zombies (finally) found their way up and I could practically feel their rank halitosis.  I was ready and had no regrets other than never being able to enjoy the sweet cream filling of my Twinkies.

But then Isabella came in and ruined everything!  She came out of nowhere and shot all the zombies that were about to relieve me of my suffering!  That stupid bitch!  I was ready to cap her right between the eyes, but before I could whip out my liberated pistol, everything went black.  I must’ve caught that disease that makes you fall asleep at random.  Necrophilia, I believe it’s called.  I had no idea that was infectious!

Nothing!  F*$%# off!

When I woke up, we were both back in Carlito’s base.  She must've dragged me all the way back there.  She may also have violated me, but I was more concerned with how she was able to drag me all the way across the damn mall when I had to escort and carry her for the last two days!  She seriously meant to tell me that she could have just given me a piggyback all this time!  And the icing on the cake is she took everything I had in my pockets!

I backhanded her for wasting my time earlier, but for her pocket emptying I got creative and just gave her a scolding  It’s a good thing Isabela’s so submissive or she may not be helping me right now.

Apparently I’ve been infected.  After three days of practically showering myself in undead blood, I have now caught the zombie flu.

But there is hope, however small.  There is an itty bitty chance I can make it out of here and save my Twinkies.

At the risk of being eaten like her brother, Isabella has offered to make me a drug to make the flu retarded, or something like that.  With the flu too stupid to know what to do, I won’t turn into a zombie for a while and she will stay out of my stomach.

We’re going to need some really weird stuff from around the mall to make this thing work:

• A first aid kit for the bullet wounds I’ll get from the UBCS while getting everything else.
• A magnifying glass to burn a hole in my rock-hard muscles for the needle to enter.
• A perfume bottle to get rid of that zombie smell.
• Developing solution to inject the power of cameras into my bloodstream to make me a better photographer.
• A camp stove to cauterize the injection hole.
• Cold spray to put out any fires the stove makes.
• Coffee filters because I don’t like my coffee raw.
• A blender to recycle everything when we’re done using them to make a delicious shake.

And several of those wasps I’ve seen flying around the mall.  They should be easy enough to catch if I just slather myself in honey and get them to stick to me like fly paper, and that’s conspicuous enough to sneak past the UBCS.

I have 24 surprisingly specific hours to get all this stuff and bring it back.  The mall’s full of armed forces, and I’m going to be making trips up and down the whole place.  I guess I should just get to it instead of spending precious time writing this.

Cue montage music!

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Final Day

It’s almost kind of fascinating how badly everything has gone to shit here.  People and zombies alike are being gunned down and all my friends are dead.  The UBCS is going to hide everything like at Santa Cabeza and the public will probably never know.  Sucks to be them.  I, on the other hand, am almost out of here.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

After getting fatass chunks all over my coat and eating Carlito, I drove around the maintenance tunnels looking for Brad.  I found him, but not in top condition.

His guts were spilling out of his stomach and blood was coming out of his mouth.  Pretty nasty injuries, but he’d be fine if I took him back to the safe house for some magic milk.  I drank all the gallons I had.

Too bad Brad didn’t let me.  He told me to keep away.  Being a badass, he said it didn’t hurt.  I thought he was just being tough, so I poked him a few times and asked if it that hurt, but every time Brad said he didn’t feel a thing.

"I'm already dead."

And then he exploded.

I don’t know how that happened, but it was an awesome way to go.  To carry on his legacy, I liberated his gun.

Yoink.

I went back to show Isabella my cool new locket, just to rub it in her face, but when she saw it, it made her think of something else.  Before I knew it, she had already typed in the password!  All this time it was “patch a mama”, which in her strange language (pretty sure it’s Gaelic) means “mother earth.”  If this is what mom does to their earth, she is one harsh bitch.

Apparently Carlito put some sort of memory seal on Isabella that made her unable to remember the password until it was unlocked by the key that was his locket!  Who knows what other kinds of mystical properties (and extra value) I can get out of this!

I was expecting to find a computer consisting of 90% porn and 10% secret terrorist stuff, but there was no porn.  We were able to clear up the phone lines though, and we didn’t even have to use pickle relish to do it.

Not five seconds after that, Jessie called me on the walkie to tell me she was contacting DHS headquarters.  I screamed into it, telling her not to.  If she called for rescue, that bitch would get out of here alive!  I couldn’t let that happen!  Not after what she’d done!

At first I hurried over to the safe house to kill the bitch before she got away, but a few minutes later she called back and said HQ ignored her.  Instead, the government was coming in to kill everyone in the mall.  At first I felt relieved that she wasn’t getting away, but I quickly realized two even bigger problems: that the feds might steal my kill and that they might take my Twinkies outside!!

Well, they didn’t steal my kill, at least.  In fact, the military didn’t seem to be doing the work at all.  They hired the UBCS!  I knew Umbrella was in on this!

In minutes, the UBCS overran the mall and killed most of the zombies.  They were all heavily armed, but their machine guns and heavy armor didn’t stand a chance against my pistol and manly physique!  I got more shot up than Swiss cheese, but the food court was on the way to the safe house, so I just filled my belly up with even more messiah juice and was on my way.  I even managed to liberate a few of their guns off their lifeless corpses.

I’m sure some of these guys have families to go back to, but the needs of the people named Frank outweigh the needs of the many.

Luckily Jesse was still in the safe house, along with a couple of dead soldiers and a note from Otis.  Apparently Otis hijacked a military chopper and escaped with the survivors, meaning he must’ve killed those two soldiers in the process!  That son of a bitch!  They were innocent human beings just doing their job!  And now that Otis has his own helicopter, he could be anywhere in the world by now!

Why is evil slipping through my fingers?!

As I cursed the heavens in a dramatic monologue, Jessie caught me by surprise.  I managed to take a nice picture, but soon she was all over me, giving me one of the most vicious make-out sessions of my life.

Her eyes were practically red with excitement and I swear she bit me once or twice too.  I came in ready to kill her, but I made a judgment call and decided to let her embrace me one last time.

Then I remembered what she did.  What she had said: “Can’t blame her for running from a guy with your looks.”  That was when I blew her brains out.  If anyone asks, it was self-defense.

With only a couple hours to go until Kakashi arrived to pick me up, I was willing to wait out the rest of my time here on the helipad, as the UBCS has yet to find it.  No wonder they had to nuke Raccoon city.  These guys aren’t thorough.

I changed into some fresh clothes and was just about ready to get some camping supplies, but I heard a voice in my head, the same one that lied to me and said I can’t speak Japanese!  It told me to go back to Isabella!  Through all the heavily armed resistance and zombies!  Again I refused, but I was swayed when the voice started playing “Whip My Hair” on a loop.

It was, of course, a stupid idea to go out there while the military was taking over because they caught me by surprise and took me away!  Apparently one of the agents set their machine gun to stun and knocked me out while I was on the verge of death.  I have yet to figure out how to set mine to stun, but then again, I don’t care.

When I awoke, I found myself bound to a helicopter in my undies.  Could it be that the UBCS are in league with the cult?  And more importantly, did they violate me while I was unconscious again?!  My bunghole must be red as a tomato!

Thankfully the helicopter had yet to take off and the guards outside moved backwards and forward in a predictable fashion.  As a wise man once said, “I can break these cuffs!”

And I did.  By putting my cuffs under my butt and agonizing in self-taught constipation, I was able to force out an incredible turd with the density of steel that broke my bindings and allowed me to escape.   I don’t know where the patrolling guards went when I left.

Hnnnnggggg!

I didn’t find any clothes on the way, so I had to meet Isabella in my undies.  She didn’t mind.

She told me that what the military is doing is just like what they did at Santa Cabeza and that I should’ve gone without her.  That’s it.

That's the plan.  It always has been.

I busted my ass getting there and was raped in the process just so she could tell me something I already knew and to do something I was going to do anyway.  I gave her a good backhand before leaving, the time-eating whore!

And I got kidnapped again on the way back to the heliport, so I had to make another cuff-breaking poop and run all the way back still in my undies.  I’ll have to remember to give her a second backhand for that.

I guess it was at least partially my fault for going back to the entrance plaza for camping equipment and stopping by the music store for a guitar, but any man would do the same if they were going to have to wait for hours.  Now I have my camp set up until Kakashi comes to get me out of this hellhole.  In the meantime, I guess I’ll practice my guitar playing.

I hope the UBCS doesn’t hear this.

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Night 3

Sometimes life gives you a poopy hand, and I got a 2, 4, 10, get out of jail free, and Petit Dragon.  When that happens, the only thing to do with a bad hand is to turn them into weapons like that guy from X-men!

Following my little escapade with Ozzy Osbourne and Carlito’s computer, I found that what Jesse had to show me on the monitor.  It showed Carlito being dragged by a chain into an underground butcher shop by a large, bald, fat guy.  At the time I thought it was Brad, and he just took on some weight getting ready for a Brad-style smackdown.  I wanted in on the fun, so I followed him down there myself.

Whoah.  Dude.  What has Brad been EATING?

Only I didn’t find Brad down there.  I thought I did at first, but then he turned to look at me after hanging some meat on a giant hook and I saw that the man didn’t have his two front teeth!  Brad loves his front teeth!  Even if he had to forcefully pull them out he’d glue them back in!  Whoever this guy was, he was not Brad!  He just brought in some nice-looking meat though, so I didn’t want to make him mad and get me kicked out.

Yah.

He offered to give it to me ground, but I prefer my meat tenderized.  Just as I was about to tell him that, he went off on a tangent blabbering about how zombies weren’t good meat.  I didn’t say zombies were good meat!  Just don’t make my meat into a man-wich!

You got to spray some Mr. Clean on it first.

The guy must not have heard me, possibly due to the excess fat clogging up his eardrums.  He started up his machine and my meat started moving toward his grinder on a conveyor belt.  It was just seconds away from not being the way I wanted it!  I had to save my meat!

No!  I want meat now!

That was harder than it sounded.  First I had to get to the control panel, and that meant getting fatass out of the way… Permanently.  I pumped the bastard full of lead at point blank range with my shotgun, but all the pellets sunk right into his fat!  He was hardly fazed!  That's what I call kevlard.  He had enough strength to lift me up, hang me on a filthy hook, and cut me like a cow while I screamed “eat mor chiken!”

Mercifully he didn't make the "hanging around" joke.

I ran out of super-shakes, but luckily fatso had some milk cartons lying around to fix me up.

Those commercials always say that milk helps build strong bones, but it’d be more effective to tell everyone that milk magically heals all wounds you may get from a crazy fat dude with a cleaver.  Then again, it seems to only do that when inside the Willamette mall, so I can see how the advert’s message would be skewed.

It was a fight of much blood, screaming, and break dancing that seemed to have lasted for hours.  That was the problem.

As the both of us were worn down, I glanced at my meat and saw that it was just inches away from the grinder!  My perfectly intact meal was about to be turned into a splintery bone-filled ground meat, no doubt to be sold at Mc Donalds on the dollar menu!

It was at that moment something awakened deep inside of me.  I felt as though my desire for my meat filled me with some sort of ethereal power and took full control of my body!  My leg lifted on its own, and

“あたたたたたたたたた!”

Hokuto!  Ju Hazan!

And then he exploded.

So that happened.

To my surprise, my meat turned out to actually be none other than Carlito!  He was quickly choking on his own blood, but not enough to interrupt his death speech.

He told me he did what he did to get revenge for what happened to Santa Cabeza, then told me about how zombies are great.

My response was this: 1. I didn’t do jack to Santa Cabeza.  I didn’t even know what the place was.  I thought something had happened to Santa Claus, so all this time he made me worry about nothing but some hobo land getting screwed!

2. If zombies are so great, why did he shoot that innocent zombie in the entrance plaza?!

And then he asked me why the people in Santa Cabeza had to die to feed us.

I didn’t even need to give him the answer to that one: it’s because meat tastes good.  Clearly he’s never tried any, the ignorant hippie.

In his parting words before tumbling down to that inferno in the ground, he gave me his locket, told me to give it to his sister, and said that his plans were not over.

But I’m not going to do him any favors.  I’m ready to make a fortune off of that thing!  Imagine all the meat and Twinkies I could buy!

It kinda... Floated in front of my hand.

But for now I’m content with just feasting on the meat I fought so hard for.  It’s not cannibalism if no one sees it, right?

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Day 3 Part 2

Of all the people in the mall during this whole incident, I never expected to meet a celebrity.  I was cooling down, mixing my orange juice with lettuce in the food court after the whole bomb plot, when Otis alerted me to someone with long hair and a Molotov cocktail in Wonderland Plaza.  At the time, that cocktail was just the kind of drink I needed, but when I got there I realized that this was one man I should not have been taking his cocktails from.

For one thing, he looked ready to kill someone with his flaming bottle, and for another, the guy was none other than Ozzy Osbourne!

It seemed like Ozzy was on his “meds” again, nervously saying that everyone was secretly making fun of him.  I was going to tell him we don’t, but I couldn’t do it with a straight face.

That we do, Ozzy.

The way he was twitching about and screaming, I couldn’t help but laugh right in front of him.  I must’ve said something wrong because he then ran out the store and started dropping explosives and flaming bottles everywhere.  I don’t know what he thought he was doing, all I know is he didn’t want to stop.  I could have just let him run around setting zombies on fire.  After all, there was an old lady in trouble nearby who needed saving.

On the other hand, if there’s anyone who would know about the drug lords, it’s Ozzy.  Plus, just who is more important?  A famous celebrity who can catch up with me and fend for himself, or some old bimbo who will only slow me down?  Of course I went with Ozzy!.... After slicing him up with a nearby one-handed chainsaw to make him cooperate.  He was a fast runner, but I had cocaine shakes!

I guess the brutal mauling made him slip, as he accidentally set his own crotch on fire with one of his cocktails!  I took a picture, of course.  That’s great blackmail material.

But I had to save him.  Sharon would be pissed if his crotch were burned off!  I thought of what was effective at extinguishing fires and tried throwing one of my shakes, but to no effect.  Then I saw a fire extinguisher nearby, but throwing it at him didn’t do a damn thing!  When I realized pressing the little lever shot out foam, I just covered the fire in that and put it out just in the nick of time!

I am so smart!

Have fun dying, old lady!  I’ve got Ozzy Osbourne!  I never found out what happened to those ladies Ozzy was threatening before.

She's lying!  She's full of food!  Let's get out of here Ozzy!

Later Ozzy even gave me one of his molotov cocktails.  It tasted awful though.  In fact I think I blew fire into one of the other survivor’s face after drinking that.  Couldn’t tell who it was.

Also, Ozzy didn’t know anything about the drug lords.  In fact, he told me his name was Paul.  Those drugs are messing him up so bad he doesn’t know who he is anymore!

With Ozzy safe and sound, I got back to slightly more important matters.  Brad had no doubt already caught my Carlito by then, but knowing him, my WEF probably had a backup plan.  Isabella said she didn’t know anything else, but that we could check his computer at his secret hideout.  When I asked her why she didn’t mention she knew where his hideout was, she told me I didn’t ask, to which I responded with a punch across the face.  She got carved up with my machete earlier.  She can take it.

I expected to run into some heavy resistance on the way to the hideout, but other than the zombies, there was no one else there!  The Scream fanboys and even the crazed druggies were all gone!  They must’ve known I was on to them and booked it out of here!  I assume the fanboys teleported away with their magic, and the druggies probably had some kind of secret rocket booster built into their jeep!

I swear to god, if they touch my Twinkies, I will have every one of them choke to death on their friend’s intestines!

When we found the computer in his hideout right outside the gun store, it was password-locked.  I tried everything someone like my WEF would use as a password.  “ihatezombies,” “beniciodeltoro,” “franksux,” and even “heinersweinerschnitzeldugan” didn’t work, so I left it to Isabella to guess.

Just then, Jessie called and told me there was something I needed to see on the monitor, so it looks like I’m in for another hike back to HQ.

It’s a good thing I drink so much coffee, otherwise I would have to sleep!

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Day 3 Part 1

Before I did anything, I needed to arm myself.  I really blew through my guns in the last mission, so I went back to the gun store to refill my arsenal.  That ended up being a lot harder than it sounded though.  Three jerks already beat me to it, and they opened fire on me the second I walked inside!  They hammered me with their guns so hard I think I gained 50 pounds of lead and I had to crawl to the door while I took every blow!

I was barely able to get out of there horribly mangled by constant gunfire, but as soon as I went through the door and left, they asked me if I was okay.  Thinking they had a change of heart, I went back in, whereupon they opened a stream of bullets on me again!  Those mother fuckers!

It wasn’t until the leader approached me we started more peaceful negotiations.  I told them about our HQ they could all hide out in while waiting for the helicopter, but they wanted proof that it existed with a picture of the air duct we’re using to get in.  I slowly approached the counter for some guns to arm myself for the trip, but there must be some line I’m not allowed to cross because they then opened fire on me and chased me out of the store like a scared monkey!  Again!

If I could just grab my guns I would splatter their brains all over the wall!

Even without guns, my task seemed simple enough, if a little tedious, but on the way back to HQ for the picture, I ran into a… complication.

I was fighting the Scream fanboys as usual when one of them threw some kind of white powder at me.  At first I thought it was sneezing powder and they were trying to make me sneeze my brain out, but it was actually some sort of sleeping powder.  Like a narcotic.

As I fell into unconsciousness, I realized what this meant.  There’s only one place they could have gotten such a substance!  The Scream fan club is just a front!  The drug lord I’ve been searching for is that old dude trying to push his drugs on innocent people to make them obey him. Manipulating them through the love of their favorite movie franchise!  He’s the last person I would have suspected!  It’s only a matter of time until I find him and kill him!  Then the evil shall be extinguished.

That eye is looking like one big target.

When I woke up, I found myself in one of the cult’s wooden boxes in a small room filled with Scream fans.  Everything I had on me was taken away and I was left only with my undies.  They even took away my backup anal pistol!  At least they have a sense of decency, but even as I write this, I can’t imagine the horrible, unspeakable things they did to me!  We have an entire group of rapists in the mall!  As if Dr. Polly Wolly Doodle Ump Bump Fizz & G wasn’t enough!  I know I wasn’t awake for it, but I could still feel the pain.  The pain of a thousand tetanus shots!

The only door in the room was locked.  I had no choice but to fight for my life with only what they had lying around their little set-up: A stepladder, a can of beans, and a sword.  I sometimes leave swords lying around too.  The neighbors always bitch at me when I let the kids play with it.

I'd rather not detail what happened next, but let's just say I'll never look at a sphincter the same way again.

They had more than one opportunity to just give me sleep powder again, but I guess they were just too slow!

Once I cleared the room and took a picture of the bodies, I got the password off a slip in one of their pockets and left.  It turns out the room I was in was in the park outside, not too far from Paradise Plaza, which was convenient, but I still had to run across half the mall in my undies while I collected any weapons and food I could.  I was so desperate for weapons I picked up a handbag and started beating back zombies and fanboys with that.  Some of them even tried to take it from me, to which I responded by screaming “That’s mah purse!” and whacking them to death with it.

When I got back to HQ, I took a picture of the duct and changed back to my snazzy clothes while I was there before going back to the gun store.  Nothing beats the drab grey jacket and white T-shirt look.

I got to the store with little trouble, got the three bungholes to come with me, and they even let me take some guns without filling me full of holes.  Right after that is when the shitstorm started.

You see, before showing them the photograph, I had to swat through a mob of Scream fanboys just outside and shut the door behind me because I was unarmed.  Once I was armed, I charged back at the mob screaming “Leeroooooooy!  Jeeenkiiiiins!”, but once again, one of them had sleep powder and they dragged me away.  Those asshats I just rescued not 5 feet away from me just stood there and didn’t do a damn thing while I was being dragged away and raped!

Just like before, I had to kill my offenders and book it back to the gun store in my undies, but when I got back they were all still in the gun store and one of them was dead.  They didn’t even bother looking for me!  And how the hell did one of them die in such safety?!  Did he mistake his pistol for a Pez dispenser?!

I was willing to settle for taking back two of them, but even though they were fully armed, one of them fell behind and got mauled by zombies on the way there!  You snooze, you lose, and you lose, you die.

With only one left, barely alive due to similar zombie maulings, I was extremely protective and managed to keep the zombies off of him; but only the zombies.  Just as I was about to open the door to Paradise Plaza to relative safety, those jackasses driving around the park pancaked the last guy into the wall with their jeep, just barely missing me and getting rid of the last survivor.

I don’t think I’m blaming this one on them as much as I am karma.  At least I had good news for Brad: No one is going to bother us about the gun store anytime soon.

But then I got some bad news (aside from realizing I was in the room in my undies, I mean).  According to Isabella, Carlito said he was going to blow up the mall using bombs in the underground maintenance tunnels and have the explosion cover the entire mall using flammable gas!  What’s worse, the explosion would send horrible grubs into the atmosphere!  Superman would get bugs in his mouth every day, and all the zombie chunks would make a catastrophic mess not even the giant maid from Spaceballs could clean up!

I couldn’t help but wonder what Carlito has to eat to have enough gas to fill the entirety of the maintenance tunnels, but it didn’t matter!  I had to help Superman!

You mean, let ME do it, right?

I thought of an added bonus to this too.  If I could get those bombs before anyone else, I could’ve discreetly blown the shit out of anyone who rubs me the wrong way…. Otis!

But that’s not what happened.  To make a long story slightly less long, I ran to the zombie-filled tunnels and took a motorcycle someone parked outside, since I didn’t want to walk the whole way.  Conveniently someone was dumb enough to leave their keys in it.  But, seconds after I drove it through the entrance, the motorcycle spontaneously fell apart!  What a piece of shit!

I instead took a truck someone parked nearby next to one of the trucks Carlito stored a bomb in, then used that to get to all the other bombs, running over what was at least 1,000 zombies on the way.  Luckily their mushy remains didn’t affect the truck’s performance.  It was almost as fun as running over jaywalkers back home, but not quite.

The entire time my WEF kept trying to ram into me with his truck or blow me up with grenades.  You’d think he’d want to be careful throwing explosives around with his armed bombs in close proximity, but apparently he had one hell of a stockpile in the back seat of his truck and he was going to use it come hell or high water.  It took six or so shotgun bullets to the face for him to get the message that I wanted to be left alone, which he promptly forgot 2 minutes later!  He even blew up my truck at one point, forcing me to go the rest of the way in a sports car.  Surprisingly, the truck didn’t explode.  Movies have lied to me!

Yo!  Move it!  You're blocking traffic!

I think Brad got him, because eventually he just stopped coming.  That meant I was home free!  I put all the bombs in a conveniently-placed shopping cart and rushed them out of the tunnels, but my happiness quickly turned to panic when I realized they were about to go off.

I either have 9 hours, 99 minutes and 99 seconds left... or... HIT THE DECK!

There was an explosion of five bombs just a few feet behind me, but I can still hear and the jacket isn’t even singed!

Good thing I’m indestructible.

Shonen Otaku's Diary of Frank West: Night 2 Part 2

Before we could get to the interrogation, Isabella first had to wake up.  I guess running through screaming fanboys and gun-toting druggies in a jeep just lulls her right to sleep.  I had a little time, so I used it to go and make some more smoothies in the food court again, which was a lot harder thanks to an overabundance of the Scream fans.

Just how many of these guys are there anyway?  I’ve seen at least 50 so far!  Did they come from outside the mall or do they rapidly asexually reproduce?  I had no idea this movie franchise was so popular!

I think I might have lost more than I left with on that little trip, but nothing ventured, nothing killed.

When she finally woke up, Isabella told us the truth about Santa’s cabeza, one that turned the truth I thought I knew completely on its own cabeza.

Sadly, I didn’t get to see Brad’s signature interrogation method.  After simply asking her for information, she spilled the beans, no doubt because of Brad’s godlike charisma.

She said Santa’s cabeza didn’t have any drugs to trade in it, but rather a research facility experimenting with a special wasp that turns people into zombies, and Dr. Banality was in charge of it!

Is that what those bugs I’ve been swatting were?  I thought killing them just made the zombies in the area subconsciously kill themselves at the horror of a life being extinguished.

"Holy shi-"

When I asked Brad how an entire research facility could fit in Santa’s cabeza, he gave it to me straight and told me the truth about Santa.

NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Santa has nothing to do with anything!  They weren’t talking about his cabeza, they were referring to a town called Santa Cabeza!  I guess it’s a relief that Santa is safe, but all this time everything I’ve deduced has been for nothing!  It took about 10 minutes for me to fully grasp this devastating revelation, during which time Dr. Bumbling Smee busted out of the closet and tried to rape Jesse again!  I knew he was still evil!  I gave him a taste of my sweet roundhouse kick and saved the day.  I’ve been waiting a long time to have an excuse to do that.

I knew this would happen!

I must’ve hit him pretty hard, because he started choking and gasping while telling me about how the government was trying to mass-produce cattle, but ended up turning the cows into zombies.  I didn’t catch the rest.  I was too busy wondering what zombie cow milk would taste like.

He was making some great facial expressions and twitching body movements during his rant though, so I took a picture.  I think the flash gave the guy an epileptic seizure because he squirmed all over the floor and died.  He ceased being useful anyway.

But then, not a few minutes later, he came back as a rotting corpse while Isabella yammered on about how her town was destroyed by the zombie wasps.  I didn’t know zombiefication was so fast!  Brad gave him a rather accurate shot to the head, but I wish he’d warn me better before pointing his gun in my direction.

Faaaantastic!

It seems as though my WEF is rather grumpy at the government for turning his hometown, Santa Cabeza, into a zombie hell then killing everyone in it with a strike force, so now he’s trying to get everyone’s attention by throwing a zombie-filled tantrum.

Talk about being whiny.  It could have been worse.  They could have just nuked Santa Cabeza.  That’s what I would have done if I were president, and if some other country tried to nuke us back I’d intercept their nukes with our nukes in midair.  Yeah there’d be nuclear fallout, but every plan has a downside.

It worked for them.

We also learned that Isabella is a medical technician.  The good news is, that means she can help Jessie.  The bad news is that means we need to cooperate with this annoying bimbo!  Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

I don't believe her.  Brad, ask for her credentials.  No?  We're just going to buy that?  Oh okay.

Bored now.  Going exploring.

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.

Busy Otis!

But…

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 effort!”

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 them.

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.