"So how was the zombie apocalypse?" My friend

"So how was the zombie apocalypse?" My friend asked me. "There was gunfire everywhere, and the zombies were dropping like flies..." I replied, my eyes misting as I reminisced

my death quota for the month, unlike them. My friends just couldn't seem to grasp the fact that you cannot kill zombies. Not really. BLAM KAPOOW. See? I'm still standing here.

And that's why I, the punctilious zombie was about to make history.

Never--not once! In the history of our great Nation--had a zombie reached such a level in the political world. His punctiliousness had paid off. Senator Zombie would soon be

in a position to become the first undead (though not braindead) President.He needed to secure the support of the party supporting the rights of the unborn. Senator Zombie announced

Four years later he was done with politics and would run Dante's Pizzeria. "Have it delivered or go to Hell" was the slogan. Hell was located at 3023 W. Armitage, next door to the

Udder Mudder, a milk bar that had recently opened next to Hell. My brother, how could I not viddii with mine own gnobs. Much of the time had gone left of the calendar in 4 years &

turned out to be a real horrorshow. If not for downing my fifth Moloko plus, I might have been a bit too faggy to do the old in-out in-out with a nagoy baboochka or even a sladky

kotchka. In the end I donned my new specs, which held my eyelids open and dropped drops in them so I wouldn't miss another exciting moment of ultraviolence. I was a happy lad.