A woman who sleeps til half past two then

the dead? You kill her. You suffocate her with a sofa cushion. Then you cut her into six inch pieces and put them in the vitamix. Except for the head, you heat seal that and

mount it to your wall. Since going on a safari in Africa you had always wanted...

too shoot a nice warty specimen to mount in your gallery above the dining room table. After flying into Nairobi you hired a driver and drove into Ngong Hills Nature Reserve.

That's when the loin mauled you. You have amnesia. You've been lying comatose for nine days with a loaded rifle in your extra-long cargo-pants pocket. That's why when you woke

you couldn't recall being attacked by that slab of meat. Your leg is stiff from the loaded rifle and your 9-day coma. The doctor arrives and gives you the thumbs up. You're free to

venture out into the world again, but nothing waits for you there. You already long to be back in that coma-induced dream, frolicking through Equestria. Not back to lonely, no bf,

no nothing reality that only contains an empty can of Spaghetti-o's and a plastic spoon that has dried to the side, a bottle of stale Guiness that long ago lost it's fizz, and

a deck of playing cards, all missing the spades and bent. Such was life now after the apocalypse. I put the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

The yummy fruit punch sprayed the back of my throat, from my gun shaped thermos. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew I had to find the sacred foosball tables before dark.