"Do the truffle-shuffle!" we pleaded. However,

"Do the truffle-shuffle!" we pleaded. However, all of our efforts in convincing Nathan his 7th grade picture made him look like Chunk from the Goonies were in vain.
He continued his mildly amusing dance, causing the Turner Uppgren to faint in laughter and
his dead squirrel jumped off his head and then
snagged his toupee with its hind legs. The hunter at the next table pulled his assault rifle. As far as he was concerned, undead squirrels were synonymous with "open season"
so he pulled the trigger. A line of bullets ripped though the little balls of zombie fur--their torsos exploding into small puffs of red gore. "Get the toupee!" he screamed.
The zombie pleaded...Don't take my hair. I am not only the Hair Club owner, I am also a client! I took no notice.
I started rounding them up and grabbing them in handfuls, shoving them into a cage. Boy, were they vicious zombie hairs!
Nothing is more disgusting that the undead and unshaven. I have a titanium Gilette razor, I don't chop the heads of zombies, I make them as smooth as a dead baby's bottom. Time to
slather on the Edge shaving cream -- formaldehyde scent. The shaved zombies looked quite dapper actually. However, nothing could get rid of the nasty
taste in their mouths from the Scope mouthwash. It was hard expel the taste of death. Yet they were satisfied with all they had accomplished with the stolen pharmacy products.

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