It was sad, it was just too tough, too bad.

It was sad, it was just too tough, too bad. For how in these modern days, men have lost the gumption to dread the death and misery of their fellow men. And each passing year they

fall into a pit of despair, a pit of absolute purposelessness, a dark place that they may never fully recover from. How can anyone even

fathom such a concept? Truly, they were dealing with an entity further up the game board than they could ever hope to imagine. They were only pawns, unaware of

the bad and the ugly. This was the worse episode of the dating game that Vern the producer had ever seen taped in front of a live studio audience. It was like a spaghetti western m

ade by a blind Welshman who'd never interacted with anything apart from sheep. The dating game studio audience were all dead, laid out in neat lines by the losing contestants

under the direction of the show's finicky producer. "This row isn't straight. And that body is crooked. Fix it." One of the contestants began to sob over a corpse. The dating game

had officially jumped the shark with its Zombie Edition. "Bachelor #1, would you eat my brain or let me keep it?" // "Well, considering you don't have one..." [audience laughter]

"Bachelor # 2, how do you feel about necrotic necking?"// "Nnnnggghhhh." [audience laughter] "OK. Bachelor # 3, what kind of mate stops you dead in your tracks?" Zombie bachelor #

3: Must have brains! /Oh an intellectual! /Mehh. /Yes you! /She chose him & on the way home was shocked when he bit off her lip in one nimble nip. 'Bone appétit,' she said gravely.