Zombies and Shit (23 page)

The penis hole looks as if it had been sealed up a long time ago, so she has to reopen it by force. She points the tip of the splinter at the eye of the penis and then pokes it slowly inside. There is resistance, so she pushes harder. She grips his penis tightly with her other hand and then with all of her strength she stabs the long wooden spike through, creating a new hole.

The sound of tearing flesh as she jams the splinter deep into the zombie’s dick. A geyser of yellow pus shoots out the top and brown mucus oozes over her fingers from the hole in the side.

“Yeah…” Gogo says, as the wood goes all the way in.

She feels his dick again.

“Now it’s hard enough to fuck,” she says to the camera.

She climbs on top of his body and stares the zombie in the eyes.

“Ready?” she asks it.

She looks down at her crotch as it lowers toward his erection. Her eyes widen as she watches the gnarled blistered member disappear inside of her pussy.

“Oh yeah,” she tells the zombie, in her very phony stripper voice.

She can feel the knots in his penis as she fucks it. She moans out loud, not caring if any other zombies hear. To be torn apart and eaten alive while fucking a zombie in front of a television audience is exactly how she wants to die.

“Brains!” she yells, fucking the zombie faster.

The zombie doesn’t yell back, as if confused and frightened of Gogo.

“Brains!” she yells.

She grabs the zombie by the throat and twists his head into her face.

“Brains!” she yells again, then bites into the zombie’s brains.

She eats the creature’s gray matter as she fucks it, thrashing against him on the bed as if she’s a zombie herself.

“Brains!”

Then the ancient bed collapses and she hears a tear. A look of concern crosses her face as she gulps down the chunk of brain in her mouth. She looks at the straps that are binding the corpse, hoping the tearing noise wasn’t one of the knots breaking. But when she looks down, she notices the noise had come from the zombie’s dick. It has been ripped off.

When Gogo stands up, the camera zooms in on the severed penis between her legs. She pulls out the ragged scabby piece of meat and holds it up, frowning at it.

“You wimpy little bitch!” she yells at the zombie, then tosses the dick in his face. “You ruined it!”

The zombie’s tongue reaches out for the penis by his face. Gogo knows he’s probably trying to eat it, just in case it happens to be a piece of brain, but she imagines the corpse just wants to lick her vaginal fluids off of his dick. She always liked guys who would lick her juices off of their fingers or her dildo, but it turned her on even more to think of a guy licking her vaginal fluids off of his own severed dick.

Gogo realizes that she’s still turned on and needs to still get off somehow. If she can’t fuck him now that his penis is missing and can’t receive oral sex from him without her labia being bitten off, she decides she’ll let him finger her into orgasm. Of course, since his body parts don’t need to be attached to his body in order to function, she decides to cut off his arm.

The door bursts open as Gogo is fingering herself with the zombie’s severed hand. She shrieks, then grabs the submachine gun next to her and points it at the intruder.

“Don’t shoot,” Popcorn says, standing in the doorway with her arms raised.

“Popcorn?” Gogo asks, staring at her pale-faced friend with the bullet hole in her forehead.

“Gogo?” Popcorn says, staring at her naked friend with a writhing zombie hand in her crotch.

Gogo puts her clothes back on and shamelessly explains in great detail what she was doing with the zombie tied to the bed. Then Popcorn tells her about what happened to her, and how she is now officially a zombie even though she doesn’t feel all that different so far.

“That’s kind of awesome,” Gogo tells her. “I wish the same thing would happen to me.”

“Well, after having sex with this corpse you’re surely infected,” Popcorn says. “We’ll have to see what happens to you once you turn. You might be like me or you might become a ravenous mindless brain-eater.”

“Either way,” Gogo says, “I’m out of the contest. I guess it’s just you and me in the zombie wasteland from here on out.”

“Yep, just the two of us,” Popcorn says. “The queens of the dead.”

“It’s going to be awesome!” Gogo says.

“Yeah…”

Gogo stares hungrily at Popcorn’s head. At first, Popcorn thinks she’s imagining what it would be like to eat her brain. But as Gogo licks her lips, Popcorn realizes that she’s thinking of something sexual. She is imagining what it would be like to fuck the bullet hole in Popcorn’s head with her elongated clit.

Popcorn realizes that she’s not looking forward to spending the rest of her undead life all alone in the zombie wasteland with Gogo.

Bosco watches from the window of an office building as the zombie war dogs chase after Junko, Scavy, and Rainbow Cat. The dogs’ Gatling guns roar at them, showering the streets with bullets. The noise of gunfire catches the attention of the living dead and the street becomes full of them. The trio finds themselves stuck between the pack of fully-armed mechjaws and a wall of the living dead.

Junko takes her crew straight into the mob, weaving through the soggy corpses. The zombies reach out for them, clawing at the air only inches away from them. If just one of them grabs Junko, that would be the end of it. There wouldn’t be enough time to cut its limbs off before the mechjaws catch up. Luckily, most of the zombies’ attentions are focused on the sounds of the Gatling guns and haven’t noticed the three humans ducking through their crowd.

The mechjaws’ bullets cut through the zombie horde, but the dead do not fall. This creates the perfect human shield between Junko’s crew and the bullets. But the dogs are still closing in on them. They easily run through the mob of undead, knocking them down like dominos, shredding their corpses with their talon blades.

Bosco watches patiently to see which of the three will get killed first. Rainbow Cat is falling behind the other two. She chose a much denser path through the mob of corpses. He wonders if she will be the first to die. He really hopes not. He hopes Scavy is the first to die, because that asshole punk wouldn’t let him join his crew. Though Junko also wouldn’t let him join her crew. She wouldn’t even make eye contact with him when he talked to her, pretended that he wasn’t even there. He hopes that stuck up bitch gets what she deserves and dies painfully.

Back at the hotel, nobody wanted to join up with him, not even the other loners. Because he had to go on his own, he was nearly killed several times an hour. He was grabbed trying to climb a wall, he was cornered by a group of zombies, he was tripped by a legless zombie while trying to run away from a horde. If he had a friend with him none of these things would have been a problem. His friend could have easily helped him get over the wall or helped him fight their way out of a swarm. If only he had a friend.

Bosco has always been unlucky when it came to making friends. People just don’t ever seem to like him. He somehow rubs them the wrong way. He’s not sure why. He likes people. He likes to be around people. He’s not shy. He’s not an asshole. People just don’t like him.

In the Copper Quadrant, Bosco worked in a sweat shop making dresses for women in the Silver and Gold Quadrants. His mother had taught him to sew growing up. A skill he thought he could use, but he never thought would become his trade.

He was the only male who worked on his floor. The other workers surrounding him were older women, the youngest of them was ten years older than him. Most of them were single mothers. None of them wanted anything to do with him. He thought they would be desperate enough to be interested in him, but they all turned him down when he asked them out on dates. He’s not the most attractive man in the world, but he’s not the ugliest either. He’s in good shape and still has most of his teeth. But women just weren’t interested in him. Outside of prostitutes, he had only slept with one woman in his life.

If he couldn’t be with a woman he at least wanted to have friends, but even friends were impossible for him. Every day after work he would go to the local bar and try to make friends with the other regulars. Some of them thought he was gay and just coming on to them, because his approach to starting a conversation was too aggressive. Others thought he was boring and annoying. Others just wanted to be left alone. But, still, every day he went back to the bar trying to make a friend. At least just a drinking friend. But nobody, not even the bartender, wanted to have anything to do with him.

He doesn’t care much that he was put on
Zombie Survival
. His life has always been shit. He wasn’t expecting his life to get any better. Death has always appealed to him. All he wants is to not have to die alone. If only somebody would have let him join their group he would have gladly sacrificed himself for them.

His goal isn’t to get to the helicopter and survive. His goal is just to find somebody/anybody to be with him when he dies.