So You’re Being Eaten Alive By a Zombie?
- Written by Hannah Weyer
- June 6, 2012
Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! HELP!
I AM BEING EATEN ALIVE BY ANOTHER HUMAN BEING!
Ah, you beat me to it. I was gonna be, like, “What’s eating you?” But you got there first. It’s funny because there’s clearly a zombie chewing on your face.
Wow, that bastard’s really going to town. You must be delicious, what kind of soap do you use?
OH GOD, MY EYE!
Yeah, just like a grape. That’s really gross. So how can I help you?
How do I get this zombie to stop eating me?!
Oh, right. Have you tried shooting it in the brain twice?
I don’t have a gun!
Then how the hell do you expect to get out of this? Ugh. Okay. Have you hit it a lot?
Have I- YES I HAVE HIT THE ZOMBIE THAT IS EATING ME TO DEATH!
And it hasn’t stopped?
Hm. Well, the problem seems to be that this particular zombie either has a really basic nervous system or it’s stuffed with bath salts. Either way, it’s not registering pain the way you’d expect a normal human to.
So what do I do?
You carry a goddamn gun with you, idiot! It’s a hard world out there! For example- you’re being eaten by a mindless, undead harbinger of the apocalypse.
I don’t do guns, I’m a Democrat.
Ha! That reminds me of this article I read that said vampires and zombies represent Democrats and Republicans! Has the zombie said anything about trickle-down economics or terrorism? Ooh, has it called the President a Muslim hippie?
It’s wearing a Che t-shirt and a peace sign necklace!
Ah, so not a metaphor.
NO, IT’S NOT A FUCKING METAPHOR!
Although, kind of ironic about the necklace, amirite? Wait, is it ironic that the peace loving hippie is devouring you?
OH GOD, MY KIDNEYS!
Dude, nasty! There’s blood everywhere!
Yeah, where is everyone? Someone should have called the police by now. Actually, that probably should have been step one, before shooting it in the brain twice.
I DON’T HAVE A GUN!
Yes, you’ve made that painfully obvious. Can you reach your cell phone? Unless this is a POST-apocalyptic wasteland and not Detroit, someone should answer. Call 9-1-1.
You know, the thought did cross my mind, but I didn’t get the chance ON ACCOUNT OF MY FINGERS ARE CHEWED OFF!
Hey, smartass! I’m just spitballing over here! I have other ideas! Like, can you kick its jaw off? The undead have famously tenuous joints and appendages. Or try to remember what you were doing before you got attacked and do the exact opposite. Like, if you were jogging, take a nap. Or if you were buying milk, try returning the milk. Or if you were calling your mother-
Oh my God. The jaw thing worked!
Yes! I knocked it right off! I’m a boss!
Yeah, I know. Half my body is outside my body. But I still have a pinkie left, so I can call for help!
Well, the organs thing, too.
Is your zombie really undead?
Is there any other kind?
Remember that zombie In Miami? And Baltimore? And Canada? Those weren’t undead, they were just psychotic or on Meth X-treme. The undead, that’s a problem. For you.
What you talkin’ about, Weyer?
Well, dead things don’t just wake up and start eating you. My guess is you’ve got a virus on your hands, and most of those are pretty transmissible through mauling. You might be a zombie in a minute.
What… but… NO! I don’t want to be a zombie! Help me!
Don’t touch me, Zombie Dude. I don’t want to get infected.
Relax! Maybe it won’t be so bad!
How can you say that?!
Well, you don’t have to go to school or anything! That’s something! Plus, if this is really the apocalypse, you’re clearly on the winning team. And it’s gonna be pretty cool not having to worry about doing your hair every morning!
Ugh… I feel funny…
Gas? Try to let it out now, I hear the ambulance and there might be a hot paramedic.
So… cold… URK!
What the hell was that onomatopoeia supposed to be? Wake up, stupid, you can do better than that!
GRAH! REAGANOMICS! TRADITIONAL MARRIAGE VALUES! BLURGH, BRAINS!
Oh, don’t eat the hot paramedic guy, come on! He’s just being helpful! Leave his face alone!