The zombie apocalypse had arrived. I knew it would. My fucking mom and her FUCK COCKFUCKER second husband Chad alwys critized me, telling me to stop playing "That fucking Jap cheerleader zombie game". But I knew better. It was my intellectual fortitude that drove me to prepare. I stockpiled weapons and provisions in the basement, dreaming of when the dead would rise and kill all the fucking conformist christian fags at my school. I would join the their slaughter, the cleansing of the vermin called humanity. That is why, when that beautiful news alert arrived, I went to my room in the basement, loaded my stash of Mt Dew and Cheetos into my Pinkie Pie backpack, and holstered my katana and Glock. it was time for my genocide crusade to begin. I would smite the earth, destroying all 'purity' and 'goodness'. I could not give a fuck about other people, they were all intellectually inferior faggots who didn't give a shit about anything but fucking sluts and pop music. I wandered into the street, and found my first zombie. Some fucking wage slave working for his Chad-fucking slutwife and his fucking snot nosed cockspawn. The first to die by my blade. I drew my katana, and readied it, dreaming of the house of corpses I would make from the bodies of the fags and preppies. I had been dreaming of this for a long, long time. The zombie turned, and I struck, just like in my anime episodes. "Watashi wa jun'nō o utsu to kurai fukushū no watashi no ha de daunhomo" I bellowed, as my shadow blade sliced into the zombies chest.
My katana struck his ribcage and stopped. I tugged. It was stuck. I pulled frantically. Still stuck tight. The zombie moaned and reached toward me. I gave a terrifying squeak of blood vengeance and ran. "Fuck cunt nigger!" I thought to myself. "That Katana cost me $47 bucks on Amazon".
I wandered the deserted carcass of the city. I still had my Glock of Shadow Retribution with me, and I was itching to make my revenge upon society still work. I had started work on my house of corpses, but it was really hard dragging corpses around. They're fucking heavy. I decided to build it in a location with large amounts of corpses closer to it. Suddenly, I caught the whisper of survivors on the wind. A twisted smile spread across my face like mold on a corpse. I walked towards a convinance store, where the fucking preppy jocks came to buy condoms and beer to fill their whore's loose cunts. There they were. Two fucking sluts from school, the ones who laughed at me when I asked them to cure my incel, with their Chad, Darren.
"Alright, Casey, you sure your mom's place is safe?"
"Positive. Dad started fortifying the place when the virus first appeared. He knew this would happen."
"Alright. Jane's got the rifle she got in the wreaked convoy and a baton, I got a pistol and a crowbar, Casey's got a section of lead pipe, and we all have supplies. We head down 5th to the suburbs, use the flashlight to send the code to your parents, and they'll let us into your place. We stay with your parents until either the military comes through, or the situation is lost and we drive out in your dad's Jeep."
Enough of their claptrap. Their pathetic plans won't save them from their judge of devastation, me. I step into the store and draw my pistol at "Darren".
"Look out, he's infected! I'm gonna have to put him down!"
I fire. Instantly I am deafened. I reel in pain. Darren falls back, a wound on his left arm visible. I try to regain myself. Through the underwater sounds of my shattered eardrums, I can faintly hear the words leave my mouth.
"Now that Chad's dead, will you sluts fuck a deserving Nice Guy like me?"
Pain cripples my left side as I feel my ribs snap. Casey had struck me with her lead pipe. I wiled in mournful agony and beat a dark shadowy retreat, being assaulted by the two sluts. I felt my flesh bruise, my bones crack. Flashes of light sprung up behind me, and I smelt burned flesh as a bullet grazed my left flank. I scrambled up a fence and retreated into the healing shadows of a dark ally.
My genocide crusade was not going well, I pondered, as I wandered the city streets bruised, bleeding, and broken. I turned a corner, and found myself facing a horde of zombies. The TV store had attracted them, and they were all pawing at the glass display. "How symbolic" I thought, grinning at the genius symbol of conformist American idiots. It was, like, Green Day brilliant. As I drew my Glock of Gory Depraved Revengance, the roar of an engine and gunshots sounded in the distance. They were drawing closer. I heard shouts.
"WHOOO WEE, THEM CITYBOYS DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO JACK SHIT, DON'T THEY CLETUS?"
"YOU BET! THIS IS BETTER THAN HUNTING DEER BY A COUNTRY MILE! I NEVER GOT TO DO THIS ON BOARDER PATROL!"
"HELL YEAH, YOU KNOW WHAT BILLY BOB? THEY GOTTA MAKE THIS A REAL SPORT, LIKE NASCAR! OR WRASSLING"
"AMEN MAYNERD, THIS IS WAY FUNNER THAN THAT EUROTRASH SOCCER CRAP! SQUEAL LIKE A PIG YOU UNDEAD SONOFABITCHES!"
A battered truck rounded the corner, and the horde of zombies dissolved into a spray of chunky salsa. The rednecks in the truck whooped as they destroyed the zombies, my only real peers. As the last zombie dropped, the rednecks took notice of me.
"Where yew goin cityboy? You need help or sumthin?"
My blood boiled in intellectual fury. How dare this NASCAR watching, beer guzzling, bible thumping, Fox News watching yokel address me, ME, as an equal? What right did he have to walk on the same earth as me, much less be in my presence.
I tipped my fedora, cocked my gun, and stepped forward.
"F..f..fffuck YOU You fucking inbredpigfucking skywizard lovers! YOUR SKYWIZARD DOESN'T EXIST, THE BIBLE IS FOR FAGGOTS LIKE YOU YOU SUCK COCK LIKE FAGS AND YOU ARE STUPID TRASH WHO ARE Intellectually inferior to ME! I have CLASSS! You have NOTHING!"
A zombie corpse next to me exploded as Billy Bob fired his BAR at it. I shit myself and ran.
"GIT 'EM BOYS!"
I ran into an ally, heading to a vacant lot. The rednecks chased me, whooping and yelling. As my feet crunched over gravel, my back seared with pain, and I got a face full of glass bits and dirt.
"YEEHAW, Filled his hide full of rocksalt!"
I scrambled to my feet, just in time to be stuck with a baseball bat. My recently broken ribs screamed as I planted myself in the ground, nearly unconscious. A heavy cowboy boot came down on my lower back, my hands were yanked back violently, and I was brought to my knees and dragged backwards. One of the rednecks spit on the ground, and nudged me with his boot tip.
"This un's gots a purty mouth..."