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Inside (To Survivors)

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Rotter's Relief = PKer's Relief
The breather's specialty: Locking friends outside.
Breathers fear zombies. Zombies fear nothing.
Surrender to the hordes, and help destroy Malton!
Join the hordes, and exist without material needs!
Shamble and kill, rather than scavenge to survive!
Zombies are just the next stage in our evolution.
Here's an FYI: you're all gonna die screaming.
Window dive into the best undeath of your life!
Reload, reload, reload... or just use your claws.
At the end of the day, you'll be dead either way.
You find survival, and discard it as useless.
Zombies horde together, breathers get torn apart.
Barhah is good! Pants are evil! Barhah is good!
Overthrow breatherism! Bring on an age of barhah!
Zombies can eat all they want, and never get fat.
Zombies wish only to prepare and serve mankind.
Death is just the next great culinary adventure.
Jesus was a zombie. Where is your god now!?!
http://tinyurl.com/A-helpful-video-about-reviving
The living can only live in fear.
You can live, but you haven't time to enjoy life.
Zombies do whatever they want without fear.
Barhah will indefinitely come, stop resisting it!
The living can do naught but join the dead.
Undeath is relieving, for you needn't fear dying.
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Outside (To Zombies)

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Defend the homeland; Join the RRF!
MAHB haz bra!nz! MAHB haz barhah! Ga!n MAHB!
The breather's specialty: Locking friends outside.
Breathers fear zombies. Zombies fear nothing.
Zombies are just the next stage in our evolution.
Revive Points are boring, put those claws to use!
When undead, act like a zombie: Eat people!
Zombies horde together, breathers get torn apart.
Barhah is good! Pants are evil! Barhah is good!
Overthrow breatherism! Bring on an age of barhah!
Zombies can eat all they want, and never get fat.
Spread the undead! Join a horde or a strike team!
Zombies can eat all they want, and never get fat.
Zombies wish only to prepare and serve mankind.
Death is just the next great culinary adventure.
http://tinyurl.com/A-helpful-video-about-reviving
Zombies do whatever they want without fear.
Have faith in barhah, never stop killing harmanz!
The living can do naught but join the dead.
Ferals, we can feed you! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Hungry? Lonely? Want fun? tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Ambra!z BARHAH! http://tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Fresh hot meals every day! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
RRF: We Love Your Brains! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Bringing BARHAH since 2005! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Zombies do it better! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Closer than any human group tinyurl.com/jointherrf
Ferals, don't eat alone! tinyurl.com/jointherrf
YES WE CAN (eat harmanz) tinyurl.com/jointherrf
--------------------------------------------------

Broadcasts

Popular Frequencies

26.01 26.02 26.03 26.04 26.05 26.06 26.07 26.08 26.09 26.10 26.11 26.12 26.13 26.14 26.15 26.16 26.17 26.18 26.19 26.20
26.27 26.28 26.34 26.46 26.59 26.63 26.70 26.71 26.77 26.80 26.82 26.83 26.84 27.11 27.20 27.35 27.49 27.50 27.99 28.00

Death (2)

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'Death', a haiku by DanceDanceRevolution: Man in a longcoat.
Darkness as I find the ground. / I'll start again soon.
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Grargh (2)

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Grargh, a haiku by DanceDanceRevolution: Wave of death upon
the humans who still have brains / chew chew chew yum yum
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Personal Space Differentiation (3)

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It's kinda depressing that zombies can cuddle together
to keep warm, and us ratty survivors shoot each other
in the face if we get as close as two feet.
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Culinary Adventure (5)

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What is death? Simple. Death is one big culinary adventure.
With death, an entirely new palette opens itself to you.
You're no longer bound by such concepts as
'That's unhealthy' or 'Don't eat me'. Suddenly, you can eat
all you can grab of a new dimension of food.
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A Hint of Movement (6)

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Here's 'A Hint of Movement', a short story by Rosslessness:
Something moves, dislodging a crate as it passes. Slowly my
eyes flick open. It's gone. Just the familiar sound of
running. I rise unsteadily, the stiffness of my limbs
slowing me. I tilt my head as I look around. What is this
place, so empty, quiet? Then the feeling of hunger returns.
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Winter Only: Weather (7)

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And now, the weather: A cold front is coming in, making it
DANGEROUSLY COLD outside. We expect HEAVY RAIN to persist
throughout the week, followed by SNOW on the 18th. A WINTER
ADVISORY is now in effect. Do not lock or barricade your
doors, as anyone outside will need somewhere to keep warm.
For heat, burn anything flammable, namely doors, wooden
barricades, gunpowder from bullets, fuel, or first aid kits.
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PSA: Scent Trail (7)

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A tip for zombies: If you log in by typing in the URL:
http://www.urbandead.com/contacts.cgi?username=X&password=X
where the Xs are replaced with your login info, then use
http://www.urbandead.com/map.cgi?rise
to view the map, you'll be standing when the game tells you
what happened since your last login. Which means you can
pick up scent trails, even if you were killed.
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Sneeze (7)

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Ah- Ah- AH- *Massive fart noise* DARN IT! That was a sneeze!
Not a fart! Honestly! This is why I hate sneezing.
They come unexpectedly, and when you try to suppress them by
sneezing into your arm, everyone thinks you farted!
But those lucky zombies don't have to worry about sneezing,
or any other breathing related problems; They don't even
have to breathe! Those zombies really got the better deal...
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Fear (8)

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You know what sucks about being alive? You never know when
you're going to die. At any moment, a horde could come
through and violently rape you and everyone nearby to death.
Heck, it only takes one of 'em to eat you alive. You can't
even trust your fellow survivors; for all you know, any one
of them could be preparing to kill you RIGHT NOW. At least
as a zombie, you can worry about what you'll do to others,
rather than what others might be about to do to you.
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MHS 1 (9)

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Oftentimes, I am asked 'Who is the Resistance'? The
Resistance is YOU. Look around you, dear citizens of Malton.
It is your neighbors and family, clawing their way into your
safehouse. It is everything that is still decent and good in
Malton, from the sunny, barricade-free streets in Ridleybank
to the piles of human bodies still burning in the Stanbury
Village atrocity zones. This is why we resist. This is why
we are fighting. One day, Malton will be free. Free of
hatred. Free of poverty and violence. Free of humans.
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MHS 2 (9)

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Today I was asked how much longer will the war go on. How
much longer will humans have to suffer before being
eradicated from this peaceful city of ours? The answer is
soon, Malton. Very soon. But we must work together -- both
zombies and breathers -- if Malton is to reach its true
greatness. Just imagine it. One, unified Malton. Free of
oppression and hatred. Built on the great ideals that have
held our city together for so long: Freedom. Liberty.
Human Genocide. We will be great again Malton. Together.
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The Abstract Painting (10)

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I present The Abstract Painting, by Yonnua Koponen
George was staring at the painting. It was abstract, and he
found it severely out of place. He was in a derelict
building; a once-proud mansion turned in to a disused slum.
This painting represented freedom. The freedom to express
yourself in a way unheard of at the time; to dream of new
styles; to live as a complete human being. Such an
embodiment of freedom was completely out of place here.
George heard a load groan from outside and shambled off,
leaving the painting to rot in the old manor house. 
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MHS 4 (10)

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Let us now talk about something a little darker, Malton.
Let us talk about the disease that still exists in our
streets, in our buildings, and in our very way of life:
Humanity... By now, you may have noticed the roving zombie
death squads outside in your home suburb. Do not fear them,
Malton, for they are there to help make you safe. Do not run
when they slaughter your friends and loved ones. They are
there to protect you. They are there to help make this
once-great city beautiful again. Prosperous. Clean.
Breather-free. Together, we can change Malton for the better.
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MHS 10 (13)

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Let me ask you a question, survivors. When was the last time
you saw the sun? As I sit here in Ridleybank, looking around
our perfect suburb, with the sunlight coming through our
open windows, I am reminded exactly what makes our
perfect zombie society so great. Freedom. Fresh air.
Sunlight. Humans roasting slowly outside on a spit. And we
want to share those experiences with all of you. We want all
of you to experience the simple joys in life, joys that we,
and our human slaves, take for granted everyday. You do not
have to live in the darkness. You do not have to live in
fear. Come to Ridleybank, and join our perfect society,
where zombies and breathers live together in perfect harmony.
Do you not owe it to yourself to be happy Malton?
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"One" (14)

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Here's food for thought; ''One'', a short story by Mallrat:
It has been five years since the outbreak, and now I am
alone. Once I had friends, family, plans for a future: now I
have none of these things. I cannot even afford the luxury
of dreams. Only nightmares remain. Nightmares of the
never-ending hunt, night and day, merging into a breathless
chase, an endless game of fox and hounds. The pack of
hunters grows ever-larger: they lust for my blood, ache to
see it spilt in the street, long to gorge their shining eyes
on my spattered brains. My heart broken, my soul lost,
I stagger from safehouse to safehouse, but find neither
safety nor a home. The one consolation is that I have
nothing left to lose - but I am beyond consolation now.
I am the last zombie on Earth, and *they* are coming.
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MHS 6 (14)

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Several people have asked why Malton, the greatest zombie
city in the world, has become a mere shadow of itself.
Deep down, we all know what the answer is. It pains us to
say it, but we all know it is true: Humanity came.
Some of us came to believe that breathers and zombies could
coexist peacefully. We believed that we could become one
united community, built on the ideas of freedom, truth,
and the complete eradication of the human race. And now you
see how these breathers have repaid our kindness.
They barricade our houses. They trash our streets.
They lash out at us with violence. But we are stronger than
that. We will bring back what was once great about our city.
Happiness, and prosperity will be ours once again,
one human life at a time. Malton will be free once again.
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MHS 9 (14)

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Yesterday, I came across a young human dying in the streets.
His legs and right arm had been torn off by ferals, and he
was holding a towel against his limbs to stem the bleeding.
As I came up to him, he started crying. I asked him why he
was he crying, and he told me that he was crying because he
realized that he nothing more to give to the zombie cause.
Nothing more to give. As I rolled his broken body off a
bridge, I thought more about his final words. How often do
we go about our day without giving to others? Can we not
learn from this courageous young man, and make it a point in
our lives to give back to our perfect, zombie, community?
So humans, take a hard look at your meaningless lives, and
ask yourself, 'What have I done recently for my local zombie
horde? Have I given everything I could possibly give?'
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MHS 8 (14)

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Oftentimes, breathers ask what makes Ridleybank the
perfect society. The answer is simple, my dear Malton:
Community. Everyone here is family. Everyone here has a
purpose. From the lowly human awaiting their glorious day of
execution to the perfect zombie, everyone here has their
place in our great society. In Ridleybank, together,
we - both zombies and humans - can build the ideal society.
A peaceful society where every need is provided and every
citizen can live a long and purposeful existence.
Where even breathers can be guaranteed safety and the
opportunity to accomplish something great in their short,
meaningless lives. You no longer have to be afraid, Malton.
You no longer have to fear dying alone. Come to Ridleybank
and become part of our community. Experience true freedom.
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MHS 12 (14)

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A week ago, a survivor asked me who to contact about
collecting the possessions of family members killed while
relocating to the peaceful utopia of Ridleybank. Such
questions lead me to believe that there are many of you who
do not fully understand the society we are building in
Ridleybank. To my knowledge, not one breather has ever been
harmed while in Ridleybank. And indeed, how could they be,
for violence, of any kind, has been banned from the suburb
for the better part of a year? We are simply one family,
composed of both breathers and zombies, committed to
building a better tomorrow. To answer your question, you may
want to check Lost and Found. If you're entering Ridleybank
from the South, it should be on your left, past the
Human Liquidation Factories, but before the electric cages.
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MHS 13 (14)

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Revive. We have all heard the dangers of this abusive drug.
Indeed, it is hard to believe that even in our perfect,
peaceful utopia, there are some who are still addicted to
this life-destroying substance. But how can we protect our
children, our families, and ourselves from this terrible
drug? The answer, dear listeners, is through education and
eternal vigilance. Warn your children about revive. Teach
them to recognize its harmful effects before it is too late.
Kill breathers before they have a chance to stick you.
Humans understand this. They know that painful, excruciating
death is merely a transitional state from pointless
existence to perfect understanding of unlife in Malton.
But we can fight this epidemic. Together we can ensure the
continuing existence of our perfect society in Ridleybank.
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MHS 11 (15)

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Recently, I have received complaints from humans relocating
to central Malton that the Greater Ridleybank area is not
the perfect, peaceful utopia that has been promised.
Patience, my soon-to-be-killed cattle. Patience. Not every
breather can adjust right away to life in Ridleybank,
where humans are nothing more than a nuisance to be crushed
under our feet. Like many things in life, you will have to
work a little before you can experience the greatness that
is occupied, downtown Malton. And like most things, I think
you will find that your hard work will be rewarded with
acceptance into a community that loves each and every one of
you. Eternal happiness. Safety. The ideal place to raise a
family (from the dead). All this and more can be yours once
you join our perfect, peaceful society here in Ridleybank.
We look forward to you becoming part of our family.
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MHS 14 (15)

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Someone asked me recently if there were any plans to start
up zombie communities outside of Greater Ridleybank. Believe
me, dear listeners, nothing would make us happier than to
consolidate Malton underneath our peaceful, perfect
community. But humans and zombies must be willing to embrace
change. Peaceful zombie/breather cohabitation will never be
possible until humans can accept being chained in electric
cages, gloriously awaiting the day of their execution, when
they can finally leave their meaningless existence behind
and enter our perfect family. But we will try our best,
Malton. We will try to unite this war-divided land, and
bring hope to all areas of Malton. In the meantime,
be patient and prepare yourselves for the coming day, when
you too may be welcomed into our perfect little society.
Be patient and prepare yourselves for the great journey.
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MHS 17 (15)

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For those of you who have yet to join our perfect community,
I ask that you consider the following. When is the last
time that you slept without fear? Malton is a city full of
dangers, where you could be killed at any moment. It is in
recognition of this danger that led many of us to create a
new community for those tired of living in fear in Malton.
A place where zombies and humans could live together, work
together, and grow old together. A place built on the
foundations of peace, where nothing is taken for granted and
where everything -- tools, water, human body parts -- are
shared freely by community members who call each other
'family.' We call this perfect society 'Ridleybank.'
We hope that you will call it 'Home.' Come to central Malton
and experience a different manner of existence.
Come to Ridleybank and sleep soundly for the first time.
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MHS 3 (16)

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I feel that there is a grave misunderstanding regarding the
place of breathers in our great zombie society. Many of you
have expressed concern that butchering every living man,
woman and child goes against the very ideals of our peaceful
culture. Nothing could farther from the truth, Malton.
Breathers are given every liberty and freedom in our great
city. They are provided food, shelter, and healthcare. They
are given every resource to succeed in life, from job
placement services to free education for their children.
One of the happiest days for any breather is Graduation Day, 
where proud parents can watch as their children receive
their diploma, get their photo taken beside the Great
Petroskjo Statue, before being ground up in a block-wide,
industrial grinder. Remember Malton, we will always be
judged based on how we treat the least among us.
Remember Malton, we kill you because we love you.
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MHS 5 (16)

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Look around you, survivors. How many of you have children?
Do any of them really enjoy spending all day trapped inside
a barricade, a death-trap? How many of them will grow up to
be a productive member of our great, zombie society? The 
answer is all of them, Malton. But only if we work together.
We must put aside our differences -- Zombie and Human -- and
focus on the future. And your children are our future.
Without healthy, human children, we will starve. Without
healthy, human children, we will be forced to hunt the rest
of you, rather than relying on the selective, scheduled
harvesting of your ripened children. Imagine, your children.
Fulfilling the great human dream: to serve as fodder for our
growing armies. It is a role that any good parent would be
proud to have their child take part in. Survivors of Malton,
if we work together, we will rebuild this city of ours.
If we work together, we will make Malton great once again.
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MHS 30 (16)

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Today a child asked me a question that I would like to share
with all of you. She asked me, 'If zombies represent the
pinnacle of human evolution, why would anyone want to be
revived? Why would they choose to become a lower lifeform?'
A difficult question, and one that I have struggled with
many times to answer. Sometimes humans do things that defy
all expectations: Combat reviving brain-rotters.
Dam tactics. Sleeping in Ridleybank. Sometimes they are
overwhelmed by the perfection that comes with being a
zombie, and for whatever misguided reason, they miss
spending every waking moment of their day in a crowded
safehouse, barricading while whistling 'Daisy Bell.'
In truth, Malton, I have given up trying to understand the
primitive human mind. I do not know what would drive someone
to give up this perfect life in Utopia, a life that you, I,
and every zombie enjoys in Ridleybank and elsewhere.
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MHS 16 (16)

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A few days ago, an elderly woman asked me what the best
things to take when relocating to Ridleybank are. This is a
good question, and one we get frequently. Even though
Ridleybank represents the penultimate, perfect utopia, and
has everything a zombie and a zombie-food source could ever
want, we still advise breathers moving to the area to bring
along a few things to help their integration into our
perfect society. Babies. Defenseless, elderly family
members. Maps, directions, and floor plans of nearby
safehouses. All these are things that will help make your
life more comfortable as you begin the glorious transition
from a life of emptiness to one full of opportunity and
harmony. Rest assured Malton, we will be there to help you
along this beautiful path that you have chosen. In
Ridleybank, you will never be alone. In our family, you will
be protected. In our family, you will never sleep in fear.
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MHS 19 (16)

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Let us all take a moment to remember the great day when Papa
Petrosjko was inspired to open the gates of Ridleybank and
create a community where zombies and breathers could live
together in harmony. And let us recall the sacrifices we
have all made to achieve this perfect utopia: The sweat and
labor needed to erect the Moggridge family slave pens.
And the hundreds of breathers we lost the first winter,
before we learned the secrets of sustainable human resource
management. But let us also be reminded of our achievements.
Of what makes our community so great, why it was worth the
years of sacrfice to bring together all these zombies and
breathers: The construction of the great Petrosjko statue,
built with the bones of breathers ecstatic to know
they have accomplished more in death than ever in life.
Father/Daughter human massacre day. This is why
Ridleybank is special, Malton. This is what you are missing.
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Lechon Harman (17)

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Today we'll learn Lechon Harman, a recipe by Thanatologist.
Roasting harmanz is a very old and common zombie practice.
With this recipe, you'll find that your roast harman will
never taste the same again. BAHRAH! INGREDIENTS:
1 young harman, some salt, black pepper, and soy sauce;
For the stuffing, use 5-10 bundles of lemon grass,
20 pieces peeled bananas or taro, and 5 mashed bra!nz.
1) Clean and prepare the harman by removing innards, washing
and scraping innards and the body. Rinse and allow to drain.
2) Rub with salt and pepper inside and out.
3) Rub soy sauce on the skin of the harman.
4) Stuff the belly of the harman with the lemon grass,
bananas/taro, and mashed bra!nz. Sew the harman to close it.
5) Skewer the harman and split roast it over live charcoal
or under a live fire. Roast until a crisp red color.
6) Serve dish. If a dipping sauce is desired, vinegar with
scallions, pepper, and blood may be served along with it.
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MHS 15 (17)

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Several of you have written to ask about the great journey
we are planning to take with all humans in Malton. I wish I
could tell you Malton, I really do. But it has to be
experienced. Rest assured, humans, it will change your life
forever. Sickness. Poverty. Fighting. Hatred. If you are
willing to take the next step and join us, you will never
encounter these things again. You will never have to
experience the pain of watching a loved one being
disemboweled in front of you ever again. Leave your old life
behind, come to Ridleybank and experience perfection. Join
us as we travel together into blissful harmony. That is what
we offer Malton, to those courageous enough to join our
family. A chance to be a part of a community. A chance to be
in Utopia. But the path will not be easy. You will face many
obstacles on your journey from ignorant breather to mangled
corpse to purified zombie. But for the faithful, the reward
cannot be measured. Ridleybank. The dream can be yours.
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Anti-Life Cultist Story (18)

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Guess what time it is! Zombie Story Time!
A young child, Gragh, begins acquiring plenty of flesh.
Her brother, Zmazharh, asks her where she's getting it from.
Gragh said 'I have got it from a strange zombie. But don't
tell mother! The zombie strictly forbade me to do so!'
Zmazharh is curious, so they agree to go together.
When they arrive, the zombie wants them to go with him.
Zmazharh hesitates -- Zmazharh thinks:
What does this zombie want of us? Why should we go with him?
A great fear came over him. 'You're a life cultist!', he
shouts, and, seizing his little sister,
he lurches off as fast as his rotting legs will carry him.
At the corner of the street he meets an experienced feral.
Zmazharh quickly rattles his woeful story.
The feral soon searches out and mauls the evil life cultist.
He tears off his face and waits for him to die.
At home, there is great rejoicing. Zmazharh and Gragh's
mother drags to them their favorite dish: Vitreous Humor.
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MHS 20 (18)

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Some of you have asked what makes Ridleybank so special.
What is it about Ridleybank that inspires a group of humans
and zombies to come together, and dare to accomplish the
impossible? Is it the water? The air? The answer, my
friends, is love. We invite humans to our perfect, beautiful
suburb because we love them, and we know, deep down, as they
are slowly roasting in our walk-in ovens, that they love us
as well. We allow our children to play together because we
love them, and we know, deep down, as our perfect zombie
children slaughter the weaker members of our family, that
they too will come to love what we are building here. Love
brings us together, inspires us create an even bigger and
better society, and convinces us to do great things with the
humans bold enough to call Ridleybank home. With love, there
is nothing we can't do. With love, there is no limit to the
amount of humans we can slaughter each day in our perfect
world. So ask yourself, 'Don't I need a little more love in
my life?' and come join our little paradise in Malton.
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MHS 18 (22)

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Today a child called me a hypocrite, and said that my
promises of a utopia in Ridleybank were nothing more than a
lie. I regret that I was unable to answer him before members
of our great, Ridleybank family ripped him apart limb from
limb, but I would like to address that here. Ridleybank has
been called many things in the past. 'The Great Zombie
Homeland'. 'Birthplace of the RRF'. 'The Land where Humans go
to die'. It is true that at one time, breathers were hunted
to extinction here. It is true that at one time, roving
warbands of zombies would train here, before leaving to
slaughter humans in the neighboring suburbs. None of that is
true today. It makes me sad that a child, one little child,
could be so full of hatred that he would tell such a
terrible lie. And after all the kindness we have shown him
and his family. In Ridleybank, you will be given shelter and
food. You will be given the opportunity to turn your life
around, and to achieve the greatness that is in all of us.
Only by coming to Ridleybank, can you unlock your secret,
hidden desire to be chained to a pole before being gutted in
some ritualistic feeding frenzy. Here, we are family,
from the lowly breather to the mighty zombie.
Here, we are a single, unified community.
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MHS 7 (23)

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Today a young mother in her holding cell asked me how
Malton came under zombie control. She even went as far to
suggest that our glorious rise to ultimate power was built
on pointless genocide and that the zombie takeover went
against everything that is good about humanity. Nothing
could be farther from the truth, Malton. The zombies are in
power because YOU wanted them. We are in control because
YOU, the great people of this great city decided during that
YOU wanted CHANGE. That YOU wanted HOPE. A reason to
de-barricade your doors once again. And we have answered the
call Malton. We have reduced survivor overcrowding. We have
brought peace back to our fair city. With mass graves now
located around the city, we have discovered ample biomass
for our power stations. But, if the day comes when the
remaining breathers of Malton who have not yet been
exterminated decide that they want to be in charge for a
change, well, we will do the right thing. We will stand
aside and let them have a say in the final days of their
meaningless lives. Because we believe in Democracy.
In Freedom. In Truth. In the ruthless dictatorship of our
perfect zombie leaders. In the desire to kill every
breather who dares to oppose our benevolent, perfect rule.
That is the Malton Way. That is our future.
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A Gift (22)

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Let's hear ''A Gift'', a short story penned by Rosslessness:
The meeting of two roads. There is a man here, I can smell
his fear. He waves something he holds at another of us.
Several loud noises and the target falls. Still the man
circles, a succession of noises. They stop as suddenly as
they had begun, replaced by a clicking. It is the first man
I have seen in a long time. I approach slowly, a line of
abandoned cars between me and him. He is very thin, and
dressed all in green. A wild beard hides his face. He fails
to realise I am there until my hand touches his shoulder. By
then it is too late. My vision fills with hatred and anger
and blood. We fall together, his frantic movements slowing,
until there is only stillness. I stay there for what seems
an age, stripping my prize, cracking long bones and
shredding flesh. By the time I am done there are others
here, picking the man clean, removing all traces. It seems
strange to me looking at this man's own kill. Why did he
kill the other? Why did he leave its flesh untouched? Then I
notice the gift. Sticking out of my chest is a piece of
metal, long and thin. Clumsily I pull it out, leaving a
ragged hole. It seems to fit my hand perfectly. Without
realising it, I begin walking west. Behind me others follow.
They move slowly, without a sound. Leaving nothing behind.
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Pequileat Surprise (30)

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Today we learn Pequileat Surprise, a recipe by Penguinpyro.
A zesty dish, incorporating tequila and pie to make normally
disgusting varieties of harmanz palatable. Survivors and
zombies of all factions can enjoy this wonderful mash.
INGREDIENTS: 1 living zab-harman (sub-human). Could be a
zerger, text rapist, trenchcoater, zergcoater, or
trenchrapist. Do not use zergrapists in this recipe.
3/4 cups of Tequila. 1 baked 12" single crust pie shell.
1/2 sliced banana. 4 teaspoons salt. 2 tablespoons sugar.
10 ounces of condensed milk. 3 egg yolks. Mixed seasonings.
TOOLS: Carving knife or zombie claws. Crowbar, if survivor.
PREPARATION: 1) Non-lethally subdue the zab-harman.
Banana Gang Bang is optional but strongly recommended for
additional tenderization. Do not use the ingredient banana.
2) Sprinkle salt onto the zab-harman. Disregard screams.
3) Begin rendering the zab-harman into raw harmanbargahrz,
using zombie claws or crowbar. Pulverize for 1 man-hour.
4) Use knife/claws to remove bones and brain. Continue
mashing until finely ground. Drain blood and fluids.
5) If you are a survivor, create a fire. Cook harmanbargarhz
for 1 hour or until ready. Zombies may skip this step.
6) Season the harmanbargahrz as appropriate.
7) Place cooked harmanbargahrz into pie crust, fitting as
much as possible in until 3/4 of the pie is filled. Only a
fraction of the zab-harman will be used. Save the remains.
8) Mix milk, salt, sugar, tequila, and eggs. Pour into pie.
9) Survivors, cook pie over the fire until golden brown.
10) Top off pie with sliced banana and leftover brains.
11) Make offerings to Barhah using the leftover remains.
This recipe makes one pie, which serves four. Enjoy.
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MHS Main 0707 left (37)

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Today's broadcast begins with a question and hopefully
closes with an answer to yourself and to the just and
burning spirits of truth, rationality and Barhah. I pose, to
those minute, warm-blooded communities who huddle,
fruitlessly, against the a-shivering cold and dark of the
Maltonian winter within the glorious gray borders of our
Ridleybank, this inquiry: Why do you claw against the lid of
your own coffins? Why is it you continue this utterly
hopeless struggle against the will of the Horde? Just as the
black fog of winter wraps his icy claws around each
building, each concrete monument, each tomb of Malton's
hideous, harman past, so will the fist of the horde throttle
every last remnant of harmanity. Each day, my respiring
friends, you struggle against the unstoppable wave that is
the Horde, against the cold, against sickness, starvation
and even each other! Why not embrace the warm, orgastic
release of death? Life is fleeting, a moment lost in a
stream moments, but death is eternal! Find solace in that.
After all, you are all so near the precipice. Is this life
you struggle in? Or is it survival? What oasis is found in
survival? Mad, militant survivalists, the overbearing
arrogance of Necrotech researchers, the very who laid this
brave new world upon you, the predatory former-police,
wicked, abusive dogs now unchained of responsibility: these
are the overlords of your shadow of a life. The horde offers
you unlife, free of fear, of want for the illusory and
unattainable, free to be, wholly, one's self. There is no
race amongst the Horde, that mercurial and baseless wall
harmanz place between themselves and their own brothers and
sisters. Nor ethnicity, nor nationality, nor religion, nor
class nor any of the more material concepts exist within the
Horde. You exist only as one of the zetheren, one unique
drop within the sea of the Horde. Only when you realize our
sameness can you embrace your individuality.
Life, harmanity, creates nothing but barriers... barricades
to our own self-realization! Join us, and together we can
tear down these barricades to ourselves! 
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Spoken

to breathers

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It's kinda depressing that zombies can cuddle together to keep warm, and us ratty survivors shoot each other in the face if we get as close as two feet.
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