My name is Tess, and I'm an alien. Life can get weird like this, but I've learned to act normal, at least. Except that one time... dfg Wrote that at 2 in the morning. Wasn't thinking straight. Everyone started calling me a racist after that accident. I feel so much remorse and shame, there's no sympathy for me. Or is that just political correctness? I will wait till I have had coffee and and am awake. Everyone else looks like walking zombies. My shrink gave me this advice and I follow it. So when the zombie in the DRINKS ONLY line insisted she go before me I admit my hackles were fully extended. Having left my blade at my table I had to improvise by using a spindle and some thread. I quickly sewed the zombie's mouth, so she could not complain, and gave her a right good kicking in the behind, booting her to the back of the bar. It was a brawl. I grabbed the nearest stool and swung it as hard over the bar as I could. A leg broke off in a semblance of a stake and I continued my circle as I swung the sharp end into the zomb oni or whatever that ice cleaning machine is called. I used that as a hand hold to climb free of the zombie horde before they found out that they would starve on my brain. I still refer to it as the Zombie Zamboni, and take it out on clear, icy days, when the zombies are well-fed on better brains than my own. I wave at them as I slowly roll by. Bloated, they wobbled a bit on their skates & (sort of) waved back as they performed their Disney On Ice parody, drawing the juicy neighborhood children out of hiding. Then...yeah, they partook.

 

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1 Woab's photo

Tess was right… it did get weird!

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