Since our drone program was scrapped, we

Since our drone program was scrapped, we decided air lifting homing zombies into enemy bunkers to be our only hope.

The sound of the spinning blades was deafening. I wave my squad towards the machine. It is latched onto a giant crate full of ravaged zombies. "Locked and Loaded" I shout, I sit in

my own mess. I did this. This is my problem. I started the zombie apocalypse. Now I foist my mistake on to the world by

giving a glass of lemonade to every single person in the world

This was going to be quite the task. Especially as I, the kool-aid man, purely detested lemonade to its very core. Who willingly drank the stuff? I thought back to the Tang monkey

& if that Tang monkey could go to space then I could surely take a sip of lemonade, for the sake of my kid's happiness. So, I, the kool-aid man, grew a pair and drank the lemonade.

Seconds after drinking the lemonade, the sun was eclipsed by a giant Ravi Shankar, who was lowered to a makeshift stage with ropes on squeaky pulleys. Tiny blue gods emerged from

his sitar and flooded across the makeshift stage until the entire area was a sea of crawling, squirming blue bodies. Ravi looked down upon them with a warm paternal smile.

“Friends,” said Ravi, “you have to admit that’s some REALLY excellent weed the ushers passed out to you!” He broke into Purple Haze, rocking his sitar like a crazed Hindu Hendrix.

He wasn't wrong. They decided to let everything go. The only thing that mattered now was living in the moment. And trying to find a McDonald's for some fries.