RRF/Malton Herald & Sun/Text/Text0907left
- By Murray Jay Suskind
As the RRF shambles around South Blythville, there have been more and more zombies carrying around harmanz with their necks slashed open, frequently pushing their head back and taking a small chunk of brainz out through the neck. This gruesome yet delicious treatment of survivors has been dubbed, “The harman pez dispenser.”
One of the trendy new items
“It’s almost as much a fashion statement then anything else,” explains RRF fashion expert Goolina. “Like our refusal to wear pants, our mad squaredancing and our propaganda posters, the harman pez dispensers just make us look cool.”
However, appearances may not be the only factor at work. According to Zahgmahnd Freud, an expert in zombie psychology, the harman pez dispensers may also be used in zombie courtship rituals. “The zombie male rips open the throat of its victim and woos his mate by presenting her with this convenient brain dispensing conveyance. It’s a display of strength as well as an indication that he’s able to provide for the female zombie and any potential baby zombies.”
This new practice does have some detractors, though. A Malton Ranger, who wished to remain anonymous, felt that ripping open the throat left too many lingering effects. “I mean... even... after a revive... your throat... really... really... really... hurts.”
Dr. Freud understands the lingering effects. “Well, revivification does wonders in repairing damage done by various wounds and healing the human brain. However, the violent ripping open of their throats leaves extensive scarring that no amount of revivification can remove.”
Members of the GMT Breakfast Club have been amongst the biggest fans of the harman pez dispensers, ripping open the throats of over ten harmanz a day to provide a sweet snack after finishing the main course of their breakfast.
Additionally, Auxunit 10 has made a business of selling harman pez dispensers to zombies who may have a difficult time procuring their own harmanz. “Well, we tear down barricades, tear open harmanz, and give to the younglings of the horde,” said AU10 strike leader Talunex. “It’s our way of giving them a fun little treat.”
The Ranger, however, hopes that this trend comes to an end. “Seriously... stop... it really... hurts... god-ah!... goddamn-ah!... goddamnit. If... this... keeps... going... we’ll... end up... talking... like... you guys.”
Whilst Malton's struggle rages on, a solitary zombie sways in dreamlike slumber.
Part I in a serial
By Olam
And what does our dreamer see today? This day he is Zombie Special Op, a highly trained, highly competent zombie assassin designed to combat and destroy the masses of enemies who hunt his kind down. Outnumbered, outgunned, with all odds against him, what chance does Zombie Special Op have? In a city where every enemy is an expert shopper, scientist and soldier all in one, how can a lone zombie turn the tide?
Zombie Special Op is infiltrating a Necrotech building, inside are hundreds of humans huddled together, the smell of excrement and body odour permeates the air, so much so that Zombie Special Op is forced to pull off his nose and deposit it safely in his pocket. Zombie Special Op finds the radio transmitter, which is barely visible for the crowd of humans who, for the most part, are so numerous they are unable to breathe. Zombie Special Op heads for the transmitter, which is broadcasting the important: "ZOMBIES SMELL!!! I HAVE A BIGGUN! I'M CLASSY!!" a sentence that humans are willing to fight for, to protect the brave transmitters and their useful banter. Zombie Special Op terminates the broadcast and instantly meets the attention of those around him.
Editor's note: Continued in next column
