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Re: Mike Daydreams More TIL5 Goodness...


Companeros. A touching story of friendship.

Miguel sat, painting his fat toenails with purple glittery polish. There was a paper plate with some Francis Bacon in it, sitting atop his upturned horn.

How had he survived the zombie apocalypse, one might ask, and one would be right to ask, as he wasn't even supposed to survive Piketown, but here he is, before us, big as life and twice and ugly.

"Ben Dead has it all figured out" said Alvarex, coming in the room wearing a floral kimono and slippers.

"My friend" sludged Miguel, "Ben Dead is a force of his own!" A drop of purple nail paint fell to the carpet, and Miguel reached down with his pointer finger, and rubbed it in, as if to obscure it, but rather making the totality of the blotch much larger.

"If we can team-up with him" said Alvarex, "we will no longer have to hide out like this!" He then munched on one of the last of the dying world's innovations: the zero-calorie hamburger.

"That will run right through you!" tittered Miguel. He had that foot right near his mouth and was puffing air onto the wet toenails. Due to the strain of stretching, he was beginning to turn red like a lobster.

"Your English is not so good, my friend" said Alvarex.

"I do not know what is the right thing" burbled Miguel. He manually picked-up the foot with the completely painted toenails, freeing it from his opposite knee, and then let it fall to the floor. He lifted the other foot, and began anew, to paint his toenails in that glittery purple hue. "I wonder when we will ever get to play for our supper again."

"That is no good either, my friend" said Alvarex, "to make such suppositions as you are wont to do." Like a mouse, Alvarex had eaten the modern burger completely from within the outer crust of the bread, and now this crust was what was in his hands, like an absurd, drunken ring. "I give this trifle of bread to the chickens. Maybe one day they make juevos for us again."

There were indeed chickens outside. They hunted and pecked along the ground, stupidly, with no other cause but to pluck morsels of absolutely anything from amidst the common yard dirt.

Alvarex appeared at the door with the scraps in hand. After he fed the chickens, he watched them happily peck away. Miguel came to the door, behind Alvarex, and wheezed-out "where will we find gas for our Matrix Lincoln?"

(turns out they had the Lincoln Continental from the end of the first Matrix movie. it was an easy heist, considering that at least 80% of the population of the world was dead and the rest in hiding.)

"Kristina Lokken, who is zombie-bitten and dying, posted a clip to [sign in to see URL]" said Alvarex. "Ben Dead was around. John Wusso. Lokken fell off a truck into a crowd of zombies. Savaged."

"You are so grown and independent and full of knowledge!" ejaculated Miguel.

"Don't start that stupid sh*t right now, por favor" said Alvarex, opening the garage door, revealing the Matrix Lincoln.

---
"When the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?"
5/13/2018, 2:05 am Link to this post Send Email to abaddon1215   Send PM to abaddon1215 Blog
 
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Re: Mike Daydreams More TIL5 Goodness...


Tonight's episode sponsored by Thiessen, Redgrave, and Lutz Law Offices, now with two convenient locations in Quantico, VA and Monroeville, PA. "We only take a percentage if YOU WIN."

The Mike Morris walked along talking his gibberish to Sam Jackson. "You see, there, some zombies eat brains and some eat flesh or brains, anything still warm from being all alive and such, there."

"Shee-it!" said Sam.

They were heading along the promenade for the Okra Cabana, which towered in the distance, but first they would have to traverse Dealey Plaza, where they would be sitting ducks, out in the open for all to see. But here they were ducking down back alleys, getting closer, block by block, through narrow confines of the old city, but not the glamorous part, but the utiilitarian part that the travel agents did not show in their brochures. Trash dumpsters and stuff like that. Old newspapers, eggshells and so forth. Feral cats.

"You know what they call a Quardur Pounner in Amsterdam?" asked Sam.

"Yeah" said the Mike Morris. He was thinking of the face of the Doctor of Film, Bloodsteve RYF, knowing all along he was in cahoots, sympatico with the Nazis, all along. He had used the zombie menace for personal gain, filming some short sequences of zombie killings that he claimed was for some future film, but as part of Nazi Orthdoxy, he could have not only fame and money, but power, and an actual living audience that would lump adulation on him.

There was a sound, difficult to describe and barely perceptible, like some sort of resonance that would and could be generated by moving machine parts. It was a whisper, but somehow a strong one, carrying from a great distance. Ahead on the street, a dog went running, away from the direction of Dealey Plaza.

"Something freaking that dog" said Sam.

"That reminds me of a horn player I usedta know" said the Mike. "Worked supper clubs and such, there. Had purple fingernails and toenails."

"What's that got to do with a perturbated dog, Mike?" asked Sam.

"Dog has a purple tongue" said Mike.

---
"When the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?"
11/25/2018, 2:53 am Link to this post Send Email to abaddon1215   Send PM to abaddon1215 Blog
 


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