We Hate Zombies

Scenario:

You are outside in the freezing cold, whistling your favorite Christmas tune while you hang the lights that you keep wrapped up in the attic all year round.   Every now and then, your song is interrupted with cursing due to the fact that Christmas lights are a huge pain in the ass to unravel, despite how much time and care you spent in neatly wrapping them up last year.  You are about halfway through when you see a group of about ten carolers, which is nice.  As they approach, you wonder how long they’ve been out on the streets because several of them appear to be limping.  Then you hear the chorus of their Christmas song, which consists largely of  “brains…”   What do you do?

What you should do:

Don’t panic.  Calmly get down from your ladder and head back into the house.  You need to get a pellet gun or air rifle or a slingshot or something that you can use against the mob, but you won’t need a shotgun or a pistol or any real firepower.  The zombie horde that is slowly making its way to your house is not a horde of zombies at all, but a group of thugs who seem to find joy in ruining Christmas by faking a zombie invasion.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.  Zombies don’t TALK.  All they do is be UNDEAD and EAT people.  These punks need to be taught a lesson.

After you have your BB Gun, fill the chamber with your lessons of steel and give the gun three pumps to prime it for punishment.  You don’t want them to get seriously injured, but you definitely want them to feel the pain they have caused.  Three clicks should do the job.  Head back outside to confront the mob.   

As you walk out the door, you realize that the Christmas lights that you were working on have all fallen to the ground because the strength of the plastic clips you were using wasn’t strong enough to support the weight of the lights that were left dangling, unclasped.  Three more pumps to the rifle; someone has to pay for this.  Approach the mob with confidence and say something like, “Go on.  GET!!!”  Then let them have it.  Aim for the bare parts of their bodies like their arms or necks so that they really get the message.  Try not to hit them in the face because that could be dangerous and someone could lose an eye.  Save that recklessness if they ever come back again.

Once the mass has been broken up and they are gone, go back to hanging the lights.  When you’ve finished, go inside and enjoy a nice cup of eggnog and rum.  You’ve done the world a service today and you deserve a break.

What I would do:

I am more of a fanatic than most people, so I don’t carry weapons like BB guns and such in my house.  I also believe that pretending to be a zombie is much worse than murdering a baby with a shrimp skewer which makes me overreact a little.  In this particular case, I would get my bow out and shoot some bitches in the leg with it.  Now they have a reason to saunter and scream but it won’t be to pretend to end the world.  Most of the time when this happens, the police show up, but they will never find out where I keep that bow so they usually have to leave without me in their squad car.  It’s hard to arrest someone when they cooperate completely and let you search their home without a warrant.  Plus, the neighbors never see anything, even though they were outside hanging Christmas lights the entire time.  Why would those thugs lie to the police like that?

Scenario:
Ah, Christmas! What better time of year. Holiday spirit, shopping, Christmas lights. There’s a Christmas light display near your home, some sort of fund-raiser for freezing old people who can’t pay their heating bill. Normally you wouldn’t, but the Christmas spirit gets inside you and you soon find yourself driving 5 miles an hour down a road with so many multi-colored lights you’d think you just got punched in the side of the head. Then you start to see the shadows, and right after you rearend the guy in front of you, you realize what’s going on. Zombies. What do you do?

What you should do:
There are things I’d suggest, like turning back the way you’d come, that I might normally suggest. Usually I might say something about how the zombies having probably consumed the occupants of the cars in front of you, and now there are nothing but blocked roads and zombies everywhere up front. Usually I would suggest something like climbing the nearest tree, running over the tops of stopped cars back to the entrance, rigging up a huge kite and letting the wind pull you to safety. But not this time, because it’s fucking Christmas and zombies don’t get to chow down on mother fucking Christmas!

So find the nearest weapon you have. Assuming you’re prepared for the normal everyday kinds of emergencies, you should have a spare tire and a tire iron. Take your pick, but a tire iron will be easier to handle for most. Then go to town like Baberuth in a baseball factory and destroy those reanimated summ’bitches. Man, it’s gonna get nasty, it’s going to be juicy, and it’s going to take all night long. What better way to celebrate! Just remember to close your eyes when you crumple their skull, just in case you get pink mist in your face.

It’s going to be a very holly jolly Christmas this year.

What I would do:
You remember that movie Demolition Man? That guy would be me if I broke an arm and decided to puss out on Sundays. Fuck that shit, I’d screw a hole in the wall until the building collapsed just to kill a zombie. And don’t waste time talking about the rest of the people in the place who didn’t have a chance to get out in time: they were probably infected zombie lovers anyway.

So what if Christmas spirit makes me feel like donating to old people who might be zombies any minute. I’m not paying them, I’m supporting the American economy by helping it consume unnecessary energy while at the same time paying someone’s hourly wage. That makes me feel pretty good, kind of like pulling a zombie’s head off with two strands of Christmas lights. The trick? A sawing action and the wild-eyed determination of a junkie breaking out of rehab. God damn zombies anyway.

If you hadn’t guessed by now, I’d dive out of my car and start hanging zombies up in the webs of light haphazardly thrown on the trees like a giant vomitting out the seasonal section at Wal-Mart. Once all the croaks were dangling in the wind, or tied up on the ground, there’d be nothing left to do but crack open a cold one and start crushing some heads with my spare tire. How high can you make it bounce?