Page 1

So you’ve got a zombie problem, do you?

Undead got you scrambling for cover?

Wondering just how in the pus-fucking Hell you’re going to get through another day?

Not to worry, Ladies and Gents. Old Willy is going to get you started on the path to…ahem…survival! I’ve spent the last few days trapped up here on the penthouse floor of the First Liberty Trust and decided to kill some time by putting this little pamphlet together. Who knows? Someone might just be lucky enough to find it after I blow this joint. If you are lucky enough to be reading this, then please pass it along to the first friendly (read; healthy) face you see. With the electricity down and all, there’s just the one copy, so take care of it and see that it makes the rounds. There aren’t many of us left out there and we need all the help we can get. O.K?

O.K…

Here goes.

First of all, keep in mind that the walking dead are extremely stupid. They have been known to walk into whirling propellers, blazing fires and the paths of on-coming vehicles. Be that as it may, there are always more of them to fill any resulting vacancies. Millions more. Possibly even billions, if the last reliable world census is to be trusted. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. Dead wrong!

Back in the eighties, Hollywood tried to give everybody the impression that Zombies were quick-witted, agile and cunningly evil, sometimes even funny. WRONG! Zombies are dead fucking bodies that just won’t lie down. Trust me on this one, people. There’s no brain activity going on here. The simple fact that most of these things are tottering around with gaping wounds in their bodies and maggots spilling out of their nostrils should implicitly tell you that there is absolutely nothing happening at the Mental Health Department.

On a related note, it is also emphatically WRONG that all they crave is to eat the brain out of your living skull (as interesting as that sounds)!

When and where that sparkling little turd dropped onto the map is a mystery beyond my ability to comprehend. Common sense should be enough to inform the intelligent reader that nobody is going to eat head -cheese when there’s ‘all-you-can-eat’ ribs and sauce already on the plate. I imagine that some spoiled, little shit of a screenwriter down in L.A. thought it would make an interesting plot twist for a waste of film. I also imagine that the little weasel was rather surprised by just how far off the mark he was when the shit actually hit the fan.

Zombies do not ride motorcycles. They do not release best-selling heavy metal albums and they certainly cannot swim. They can sink and, after a suitable period of time in the water, they might even bob to the surface for a while. But I can guarantee you that they cannot swim. Swimming would imply cognitive thought, which, as I have already admirably demonstrated, is patently impossible.

There is one, and only one, truth about the journey before you.

You are outnumbered.

And I’m not talking Custer’s kind of outnumbered.

We should all be that lucky!

At this point, I imagine that a little bit of the truth has begun to sink in. The fact that you made it up to this office alive and are now reading this document should be enough to drive home the reality of what I’ve written thus far. So, save your fairy tales about undead, singing bikers doing laps down at the ‘Y’ for someone else.

The question arises…

What should you do, now?

First of all…GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS BUILDING!

There’s a very good reason why I’m not there to deliver this sermon in person. Whatever else may be said about walking corpses, one thing is clearly evident: they are as persistent as Oklahoma grasshoppers when it comes to getting into enclosed spaces. With the possible exceptions of Easter Island or a submarine stranded at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, there is not a single square inch of dry flooring on this planet that they cannot get access to.

The bottom line is very simply drawn and it is this: Keep moving!

This, of course, entails…

Napoleon once said that an army travels on its stomach and in this case, that ain’t no shit! Trying to stay ahead of this particular stomach is likely to become the biggest pain in the ass you’re ever going to experience. Immediately throw out anything resembling a tennis shoe that is currently in your possession and get yourself a solid pair of steel-toed, ass kicking boots. In fact, you might want to get an outfit made entirely of leather, since it’s kind of difficult for them to chew through. Chainmail would be better, so you might want to pay a visit to the local museum. The reasoning behind a good pair of footgear is a little more mundane, by comparison. With the electricity down, the gas pumps don’t work. So unless you want to spend the better part of every day of your future existence siphoning gasoline out of abandoned cars, you’re going to be doing a lot of walking. Not to mention…RUNNING LIKE HELL ON FIRE! For Christ sake, get some shoes that will last the distance.

[ Continue to page 2 ]