Posted on March 19, 2011 15:06
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No.1:You're Never Hungover Until You're Awake
It felt like someone had jammed a porcupine into my skull. Why? I have no idea. I don't really know why, but lets move on.
I can't even remember last night. Surely I'd remember something if I'd been drinking. But no...nothing.
Then my phone rang and the bloody porcupine started doing a jig.
"Hello?" I croaked, shocked at the sound of my voice. Had I been eating sandpaper? Thank God! Gillian, she could probably clear some of this up for me.
She couldn't, not much anyway. Apparently she lost track of me after 10 p.m....Great. She could however guide me to my bathroom and tell me to take some paracetomol...after I already had.
(Note: Porcupines are NOT in any way affected by painkillers)
So now to figure out what the hell I had done between 10 p.m. and now, 10:30 a.m. Hooray for sundays.
Getting dressed I began to plan my investigation. As I ate breakfast I scrapped that plan and formed a new one...which I also scrapped. Where was I supposed to start? Then came the answer to my problem...but he came with a few more massive ones.
He did give me the number for a good door specialist though...
No.2:You'll Never Meet The Crazy Guy From Last Night
It's actually very traumatizing to have your apartment door kicked in. Especially if you have a non-alcohol related hangover which simulates the experience of having a porcupine stuffed in your head.
(Note: I apologise for mentioning the porcupine so much but it's a really big part of my life right now)
Anyway, this guy kicked in my doorinto my apartment with, and I kid you not, a sig sauer .22 woodstock double barrel...and a can of coke. He took a second to evaluate the shattered remains of my ex-door.
"Sorry 'bout that, but my hands were busy," he explained sitting across from me at my suddenly far too small table. However at this point even the porcupine (who I have now named Larry) was curious. So I asked him:
"Who the hell are you?"
"Bubba, remember? we met when I saved you from that zombie?" He replied...quite seriously, which scared me a little (after all I wasn't feeling to fresh that morning and who knows what crazy people class as the undead?), so I may have shouted a little and fell off my chair. But guess what?
That wasn't the worst part...
No.3: You Will Never Be Asked To Save The World From An Impeding Apocolypse Which May Or May Not Be Zombie Related
It was at this point in the proceedings that I began to have serious doubts. When I made this clear Bubba argued:
"You were all for it last night!"...despite the fact not even he knew what the hell I had been on. Of course what I realise now is that by inviting me he was really only giving me the option to come quietly. So after a five minute arguement and a can of coke, he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder across from his gun (who is apparently called Matilda).
On the way down the stairs he explained to me his goal of saving the world from the coming apocolypse. What was causing the apocolypse he failed to mention.
He also failed to mention that we weren't the only people involved in this insanity, and no I do not mean Larry and Matilda.
His name was Mark and Hers Lorraine, and quite frankly they were insane. In much the same way as Bubba unfortunately. Well I guess I'm being unfair. Their sanity wasn't 100% but they were right about one thing...
No.4: The Crazy Guy From Last Night Will Never, Ever, Be Proven Right About The Impending Apocolypse Which Is In Fact Zombie Related
Y’know, there’s this second of calm after a pick-up truck is blindsided so hard it rolls halfway across someone’s front garden, while the people inside were trying to find the impending apocalypse so that they may stop it with nothing other than four high calibre guns, ridiculous amounts of ammunition and a porcupine.
Then of course the people who blindsided you will start screaming as the horde of zombies that they were trying to escape catch up with them and begin to punish them for their truly horrendous driving skills.
(Note: Porcupines are quite agitated by shrill screams…and violent car crashes)
Luckily we escaped unscathed, barring quite a few scratches, a couple of bruises and a possible broken leg (Larry’s, not mine). Within seconds Bubba and his crew had reduced the the Zombie horde to little more than quivering lumps of fetid flesh. I stood back and watched, mainly because I had no idea how to fire the gun I had been given and also because, like any reasonable person, I hadn’t really believed a word Bubba had said. Naturally the woman inside the car wouldn’t stop screaming, despite the fact that the danger was clearly passed, (Great, we had to run into the poster girl for feminism) so Lorraine went to help her out.
Bubba took the lead as we walked through the deserted town heading toward his shop.
(Note: It’s a candy store. Bubba, aka the crazy guy from last night owns a FRIGGIN CANDY STORE, WTF!!!!!) so we could do a little sniper work and wait out the apocalypse until some form of help arrived. Which actually seemed like a half decent idea, until of course we got there, barricaded ourselves in and somehow became a beacon for every zombie in a twenty mile radius.
(Funnily enough, a zombies rotting muscles are quite enough to break through glass, and wood…..and steel doors). Then of course, as we gathered into our last stand atop the roof of “Sweet Dreams”, guess who entered?
No.5: You Will Never Have To Break Up With Your Girlfriend While She Tries To Eat Your Brains On The Rooftop Of The Crazy Guy From Last Night’s Candy Store (Who You Don’t Remember Because You Were On Some Hell Of A Drug That Simultaneously Wiped Your Memory While Shoving A Porcupine Inside You Cranium) In The Middle Of A Zombie Apocalypse.
I used to think that the fastes way to get yourself dumped, was to cheat on someone, but no, turn out that being zombified will do that for you in seconds, in fact it pretty much blows your chances of getting with anyone…ever. So when a suddenly rotting Gillian (I’m not even going to try figure out how she got that decayed in two hours) ambled onto the rooftop, I had only one thing to say;
“Holy Shit That’s Gross!” as I squeezed the trigger of my shotgun. Naturally I had forgotten to reload (being the ordinary person that I am, I forget these kind of things). So the Gillian-Zombie had a free path to me through the exploding bodies. Luckily for me when she grabbed me, my womanish instincts ook over and I flailed like a dying fish. The Shotgun then smacked the Gillian zombie across the side of the head and sent her flying off the roof, and of course my manly squeal had alerted everyone to watch as my ex-girlfriend ( and amazingly the last zombie) plunged headfirst into the sidewalk where she exploded like a paper bag of mouldy vegetable soup (Even Larry thought it was cool).
*Happily Married to Nana...For the next 48 Hours*
