We Hate Zombies

Scenario:
You’re walking aimlessly in a park.  It could be any park, it could be your park, and this just happens to be every normal day you’ve ever had.  The sun is sunning, the birds are chirping, the world is spinning, but slowly, relaxed.  Shit!  A herd of zombies appears out of no where, grunting, groaning, moaning for brains.  They reach toward you, and you have 1 second before your IZRM rocks the world.  What do you do?

What you should do:
This is what you should be thinking: “NOOOOOOOO!!!!  STOOOOOOOOPPPPP!!!!! Those aren’t zombies!”  Duh.  Everyone knows those aren’t zombies, because zombies don’t mother fucking talk god damn son of a bitch.  How many times a day do I hear zombies cry for brains?  Never, because zombies don’t talk, but a lot of posers end up with broken arms and no sympathy from me.  If you want, let your IZRM take over and wipe out the world; otherwise, bite your lip or break your finger or shit your pants.  Just do whatever it takes to stop yourself from killing a gaggle of teenagers (if you care enough).

What’s going on here?  Cosplay, the name of a movement for people who never let go of Halloween, for people who didn’t get invited to the costume parties everyone else was going to, for people who think they look better in someone else’s clothes than naked.  For these people, dressing up in costume isn’t just a once-a-year thing, it’s an everyday thing.  Why live your own life when you can act like you’re living the life of an imaginary character in some Japanese storyline?  No!  Don’t answer that!  It was a rhetorical question, I don’t want to hear bullshit about scantily clad women and huge weapons of ultimate doom.  Cosplay is not real life, and that’s what’s important here.

Unfortunately for those dumb enough to dress as a zombie, if you die in Cosplay you die in real life.  That’s why they are a real danger to themselves and you are the ultimate danger against them.  Fortunately for everyone, they can’t infect you if they bite you, which pretty much means you can drink their blood with impunity.  Still, I wouldn’t recommend it.  

What I would do:
I can smell Cosplay a mile away.  I knew those zombie look-alikes were coming my way like a fart on the wind.  Thanks to me, they were safe from a case of mistaken IZRM and get a chance to do something great with their lives.  I should be considered a hero, but teens these days can’t recognize heroes anymore; it’s been too long since they’ve had a good hero.  How can you tell?  Why else would they dress up like a zombie?  It’s disgusting.

Which brings me to the point.  I really hate some god damn zombies.  I hate them so much, I don’t even want to let imaginary zombies live.  That’s what drives me to find a Cosplay zombie hunter willing to take down a crowd of unsuspecting demons.  And I don’t just find some dork off the street willing to say “bang bang” or “lightning bolt! lightning bolt!”  I find a damn hot chick with enough gunpower to shoot down a fully functional mecha.¹  Whoa….  I think I just had a funny feeling.  Down there.  This is the shit dreams are made of people, so you gotta enjoy it while it lasts.

Yeah, I hate zombies that much. No, I didn’t get invited to a costume party either. Yeah, it does have something to do with what happened last year. No, it’s a long story and I’ll save it for another time.

¹ I’d apologize to the ladies for the sexism, but I’ve gotta be true to myself, and that’s the truth.