RRF/Malton Herald & Sun/Text/Text0909
Editor's Note:
Welcome back to a new edition and a new staff for the MH&S! We have shaken off the dust from the ol' printing press, and it is our hope to bring with these changes a more regular publishing schedule. Some of our faces may be new, but our brains are still rotten and our core philosophies remain the same.
We will still continue to bring the latest technology, social conditions, zombie politics and current events affecting zombies to the citizens of Malton. So, we invite you, dear readers, to join us as we follow the march of the hordes throughout Malton, keeping its rightful zombie inhabitants informed on the latest news regarding the eradication of the human infestation affecting our dear city.
-MH&S Editorial Staff
Zombie Groups blast area schools for low testing scores and poor performance.
Malton students fail to grasp fundamentals such as multiplication tables, basic shapes, and not sleeping in resource buildings. “My child no longer wants to eat your honor roll student,” say Angry Zombie Parents.
RIDLEYBANK – Malton Harmanz officials, already under fire for turning the once beautiful city of Malton into a barricaded, litter-ridden, fire-prone death trap, are now coming under fire from zombie leaders after low test scores and standards from area schools were made public last week.
“We have always suspected that Malton students' mathematical and language skills were lagging behind the rest of the world “ said Janice Graagh, Director of Harmanz Genocide and Food Safety.. ”Now we finally know the truth. Johnny can't read, write, or even secure a door.”
According to the results released last Wednesday, Malton area students ranked last in basic science, writing, and were three-times as likely to believe that tagging and radio operation are fundamental, life-altering skills.
“It's a radio. You turn it on. Why is this even in Malton's curriculum?” said Graagh, shaking her head in frustration after witnessing a fifth grader run from a ransacked, overrun Police Station to another ransacked, overrun Police Station. “Really Malton? This is who our zombie children are supposed to eat now? Small and flavorless brains?”
Graagh challenged Malton-area schools to increase their funding in science, theoretical mathematics, and other tedious, but brain-developing disciplines, calling the current performance gap “Malton's greatest threat to the sophisticated zombie culinary scene.”
"Malton's children deserve more than an educational system that currently raises them to become dumb-witted, easily-picked off targets, “ said Graagh, shaking her head while watching two zombies cut down a small girl trying to spray paint a fire station. “We want highly-intelligent, easily picked off targets.”
“Just a week ago, I came across a young high school student walking home from Advanced Police Station Barricading 201,” added Graagh. “He smiled, waved, but then began to scream “No! Pleas! You goin to kill me” as I started to rip his arm off”.
“Have Malton's standards really fallen so low, that we are expected to explain to a grieving family that their mauled, dismembered child barely understands basic English?” a tearing Graagh continued. “Malton's children deserve a better future than this. Our children deserve a better meal than this.”
Other zombie leaders have suggested that today's students are having trouble adjusting to their new role in today's high-paced, zombie-driven, instant harmanz-snack world.
“What these children and what Malton's so called “survivor leaders” need to understand is that without education, many of these kids have no future. The job market already demands a highly-technical, highly-adaptive, highly-trained workforce with well-developed, buttery-flavored brains. Advanced Shotgun training is just not going to get the job done anymore,” said Marc Hrnhrh. “Massive reform is needed if today's students can ever hope to grace our dinner table.”
Targeted afterschool help may be vital for many at-risk students, especially when they are surrounded by a hostile group of the undead, continued Hrnhrh. “If you see a child about to overtaken by a bloodthirsty zombie horde, do that student a favor. Enroll him or her in "Contemporary Emergent Literature: From Aristotle to Chaucer" or even "Differential Geometry: Advanced Risk Management" immediately. The zombie palate is a terrible thing to waste. Our stomachs will thank you.”
However, not everyone agrees with Graagh's calls for reform.
“Whatevr.” said John Ashton, 11th Grade, Shearbank High. “Im got pla Cal of Dutee.”
A Solution to the Health Care Crisis: Let Zombies Eat Everybody
by Murray Jay Suskind
Amidst all this harman ruckus about "health care" and "reform" and "teabagging" something has gotten lost. Something very fundamental. Something that strikes at the very way harman "society" functions... or fails to do so. What the harmanz fail to see is that the true reform comes not from byzantine corporate or government provided health care. True reform comes from the way people live. Or rather, unlive. Today I am going to take on all a series questions frequently asked during this health care debate and explain why the RRF Health Plan (brought to you by death) is far superior to any other on the table.
Is single payer not the most simple, elegant solution?
No. Killing everybody is. Embrace unlife.
I thought the market provided for the most efficient allocation of resources? It doesn't. Markets are a cumbersome and inefficient oddity of those who are living. Those who have embraced unlife care nothing for supply, demand, markets or capital. Any existence that is predicated upon an exchange currency for goods and services is inherently corrupted by livelihood. Die and eat brains. That is the most efficient allocation of resources.
What do you think about the government option?
I'm dead. I don't think.
Would an employer mandate truly offer health care for more people, or would it simply contract the labor market as employers shed payroll in order to provide insurance or pay the fine for the fewest amount of people?
The only thing we mandate are 5 or 10 ap into the cades from mature zombies.
This is socialism!
No. It's the apocalypse.
Leave the government out of Medicare!
Uh... the only way to avoid government intervention in Medicare is if all of us die.
Is it true that you want to euthanize the elderly?
Yes. Along with children, the middle-aged, young adults, the healthy, the infirm, the disabled... pretty much everyone.
What about wellness and prevention measures? Would this not decrease demand for treatment of those who are ill and in turn have a dramatic effect in curbing the growth of health care costs?
Health care is free if you're dead.
Will I be forced into government-run health care?
No. You will die.
Don't you think the President should provide us with the original copy of his birth certificate?
Wrong meeting. But let me clarify... birth is completely irrelevant to the undead. It's all about the death certificate for us.
I have diabetes. Would I be excluded from coverage for my pre-existing condition?
The only condition of our health plan is that you're dead.
Is it truly reform if we leave employer-provided health care in place? Isn't part of the problem that we tie basic medical coverage to employment creating a perverse dichotomy of those who are well are more able to find employment and get the health care of their choice versus those who are not well and find it very difficult to find health care?
Zombies aren't employed. Zombies are given RESPONSIBILITY.
I hope that clarified many of the questions people had.
Bland Branz Bore Bargarz: Zombies everywhere complain about lack of spicy foods
by Tarman2007
It's official: Harman branz no longer have that zip to them as in days past. Zambahz have noticed a distinct lack of flavour in their daily diets. Our scientists/taste testers have traveled into the field to discover why, and have come back with these findings. According to strenuous research, they have determined that harmans no longer use much of their branzpower, leaving the normally delicious organ with less taste due to the near non-presence of rational thought or clear motivations.
One zombie connaisseur concluded their extensive taste-testing researching with these results: "Only a very limited selection of harmanz have any real taste to them, but you have to know where to look. The average shambler is likely to come across blandness in their everyday search for namz. Try to find ones who aren't carrying a lot of useless gear, like empty heavy weapons and swords."
The branz of harman murderers, known in Malton as PKers, seem to retain much moar taste, as these organs do seem to get more usage overall, but their low numbers leaves them out as a staple source of diet; they're relegated to the rare delicacy category. The largest known source of nammahnaaz as of current knowledge is the MCM. These particular organs are actually used on a daily basis, providing the seasoning of intelligence that makes the branz extra nammah.
GMT-BC celebrates 6000th Kill with Lucky 6000th Victim
On July 16th, 2009, the GMT Breakfast Club announced that Private Mendoza, currently with the Fortress, was the winner of the MegaMillions MegaBrains GMT-BC Jackpot. The group surprised Mendoza with the news inside Borrer Street Police Department, Shearbank, breaking down the hastily constructed barricades to celebrate with the lucky winner.
Mendoza, who couldn't be reached for comment, was found curled in a fetal position in a corner office, barely able to contain his excitement over being chosen.
The GMT-BC reported that Mendoza elected to receive his prize as the 6000th Kill in one lump installment rather than having an antagonizing and painful death spread out over twenty years. As Distinguished, Mortificant, Yama LaVey, Adele, and Noctiarth of the GMT-BC looked on, Dick Johansonson cornered the lucky human, and quickly awarded him his prize, ignoring his screams for mercy by severing his spinal column before devouring his brains. The group then proceeded to slaughter the remaining seven humans screaming inside the Police Department as part of an early promotion campaign for the 7000th Kill Jackpot.
Harmanz Special Op Ed Piece:“I'm sorry, Dear. But I'm leaving you to resume my quest to add a 50th fire axe to my collection.”
by Janet Richardson
formerly Malton Fire Department, Engine #34
currently Prisoner #21B76, Reeducation Camp Alpha
Dear James,
By the time you finish reading this, I will be gone. It's not you James. It's not even me. In truth there is something else. A higher calling that has convinced me to leave you and the kids, and to help save Malton.
I am resuming my quest to add a 50th fire axe to my collection.
James, I have left the kids with Cedric. Yes, I know he is addicted to Revive. I know he spends his time sleeping on a couch in a over-barricaded motel, surrounded by filth and garbage from a month's long siege. I know he thinks he can save the world by ignoring unbarricaded safehouses and shooting lone zombies in the street. But, he will be a better parent to them than I could ever hope to be. It's for the best James.
I remember the first time we met. I saw you outside in the street, shooting a wounded zombie swaying beside a parked car. You finished him off with a shotgun, and looked in my direction. I glanced back toward you, past the zombies mauling the sick in St Ethelbert's Hospital, past the dying survivors in the ransacked Dempsey Grove Police Station, and smiled when you pistol-whipped that zombie at the revive point, ignoring his pathetic Mrh's. I blew you a kiss, and after I saw you finish the broken corpse with a headshot, I knew that I had finally met a real man here in Malton.
You do remember our first date, right, James? His and her matching black dusters. A romantic spam and canned bean dinner on the roof of Philpotts Tower lit by the still burning Hildebrand Mall...You looked perfect in the light as the fire consumed Hildebrand below us. It was fun, wasn't James? And the stories you told that night! I laughed so hard that I forgot about the screams in the distance. You always did know how to show a girl a good time.
But James. Those days are past. In this nightmarish world where we are hunted to extinction, we have to remember the basics of survival and continuing on as a species. I can no longer sit around in Roftwood, wasting time establishing safehouses, reviving the fallen, and evacuating the sick and dying. I want to accomplish something with my life before I grow old and frail.
I want to find that 50th fire axe.
I'm sorry James. You would never understand. You never did. Some girls collect jewelry. I collect axes. Each one perfect for a unique task; each one a special tool in my war against the shambling hordes. Take Axe #27. Red wooden handle, well-balanced, with a finely sharpened metal head. Perfect for a Sunday stroll along the rooftops of Roftwood. Or Axe #18. Red wooden handle, well-balanced, with a finely sharpened metal head. Perfect for a night out to the theater. Or Axe #3. The perfect accessory for that blue halter-top you always liked. And as for Axe #50? Well, I won't know until I see it. But a girl has to have some variety, you know?
I'm sorry, James. I really am. I know I promised to be with you in good times and bad, and in sickness and in health. That we would grow old together, you, my dutiful husband and I, your dutiful wife. That we would raise a family together and be together always, united against the hordes.
It was fun while it lasted but sometimes there are more important things than love and family.
Things like a fire axe.
Love always and do take care of yourself,
Janet xoxoxo
