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Frank ran from the slot lounge as fast as he could. He had heard Isabella yelling at the top of her lungs. But by the time he got to the roulette aisle, there were at least sixty ghouls standing in his way.

"Son of a bitch! - I’m unarmed, I won’t be able to skip through these dirty boys before Isabella gets munched on." Remarked Frank as he wiped his sweaty brow.

Las Vegas was once a seedier place, mostly the brainchild of corrupt corporations and gaudy gangsters bent on luring cash away from the weak-minded and unlucky. However, it had gone through a big change, making the desert oasis a place for family vacations and it now housed an assortment of queer amusement vices to reel in fun lovers. To attest to this, Frank recalled passing a roller coaster that was built high over a casino building and he was now staring at some type of ride on a much smaller scale.

"Hmmm- that just might do."

A round sphere composed of interwoven, metal bars was gingerly perched on a podium of sorts. The sign on top of the ride read: Hamster Wheel From Hell. Frank thought that was so ironic, while he bashed in the bottom of the podium with the standing edge of a barstool. He had to work fast; several ghouls were quickly making their way over to him. Before he could unhook the Hamster Ball from its socket, two feisty zombies lunged at him. Frank used his burly strength to knock one into the other, setting them both off balance. In tune with that attack, he swung the barstool high overhead, striking down the taller of the two ghouls so hard, that some of its brains exploded out of its nose. Wary of the next one, Frank pulled the barstool backward, forcing its legs to skewer deep into the eye sockets of the other walker.

"Damn, this is taking too long!" Shouted Frank while he heard the continuous calls of Isabella from afar.

Latching his hands around the thick metal bars of the Hamster Ball, he pulled with all his might, finally detaching the three-hundred-plus pounds of the metal sphere. There, he clambered clumsily as the giant Hamster Ball made a loud clanking sound as it hit the floor. Almost losing the odd contraption to gravity itself, Frank had to chase the cage ball a good distance before he could stop it.

"This thing is heavier than I thought."

Still, Frank quickly maneuvered the ball to find the curved door latch and climbed in accordingly. At first, he fell inside of the thing for a few seconds, clumsily battering the Hamster Ball into the casino walls. But despite the sphere’s weight and size, Frank found it to be surprisingly easy to maneuver, once he got the hang of it. Even so, he was taking too long to get to the other large room where he’d heard Isabella’s cries. Noting this, Frank began to run inside of the sphere, forcing the ball to speed up to a dangerous momentum.

"Get the hell out of my way!" Shouted Frank, while he rammed into dozens of undead ghouls.

The sound of the Hamster Ball crushing skulls under its weight had distracted Frank enough to make a mistake. He struggled to keep the sphere moving in a straight line, but he suddenly veered to the right, where he crashed into a jukebox. The jukebox shook and lights blinked as it began to play. The song was a loud one and filled the entire casino lounge. It was the song "Hell’s Bells" by ACDC – another ironic coincidence, since Frank was in the Hamster Ball From Hell. Nevertheless, he got his concentration back and started rolling the ball toward Isabella, who he could now see standing on top of a Poker table, kicking at oncoming zombies.

"Isabella, get ready to jump to your left!"

"What the - " Isabella didn’t finish her sentence; she was too stunned at seeing her partner in a giant ball, rolling towards her in manic fashion.

As it was, the Hamster Ball From Hell was a deadly instrument, quickly treading over ghouls and crushing them. And when it didn’t roll over the unlucky undead, it had enough force to shove them away; sometimes with such power that it sent them flying in every direction. Yet the Hamster Ball did have its flaws. For one, it had some pretty wide open-spaces between the bars, where all manner of frenzied zombies could stick their dirty hands through. This made Frank morbidly aware that if enough of them could catch him at a slower pace, they could, in effect, stop the ball completely and trap him inside. Knowing this, he drove his round tank to Isabella’s left and urged her to jump – and she did.

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