User talk:Sue N Ded
On the contrary, the page still exists (for now), but like most character-related pages it should be kept out of the main article space and kept on your own user page. Here are the contents: --19:57, 5 May 2006 (BST)
Despite the feminine name, Sue Nathan Ded is actually male - the victim of parents that were in denial over the birth of a son instead of their prophesized* daughter.
As a young boy, Sue was taunted so relentlessly, that he became numbed to emotion. He ran away from home at the age of 12 (when his mother insisted on showing him how to apply a tampon) and was picked up by a travelling circus. There he spent 17 years as the amazing "Boy who could eat his own head", until it was discovered he was not really a boy at that point, and was fired. He spent a year as a drifter eating banana peels and cardboard boxes until he fatefully decided to join the Military in 2003.
It was there that he was dispatched as part of "Operation: Zombie Fodder" in the vast city of Malton. Given only 6 bullets and a meager 9mm peashooter to fight with (this is not counting the sage, parsley and nutmeg he was told to sprinkle on himself for undisclosed reasons), he was quickly overwhelmed and separated from his unit. Somehow he survived, and was able to take refuge in an abandoned kitchen. It was here, upon reading a cookbook to pass some time, that he learned that sage, parsley and nutmeg are fantastic when served on human flesh.
Putting two and two together, he wrote down the number 4, then went back to contemplating what this all meant. He decided to sacrifice himself to the zombies, but was forever changed by a run in with a rambling homeless person that had been surviving by poking zombies with pool cues. The homeless man spoke of some Rotten Tomatoes, and during his tale, relegated the legend of one Velvet Cyberpunk, reputed to be the most lusciously endowed woman on Earth. Sue knew that if he was going to die, it would be while trying to get a peek at these mythical breasts.
And so he began his jouney.
