Act 18: Zombies: Attack of the Killer chicken!

So I was thinking about Zombies the other night, as I often do huddled under the impenetrable shell of blankets and pillows that is my bed like fortress. As I listened intently for the tell tale signs of the undead; groaning, wailing and the trite but effective calling out for brains to eat, an idea struck me like a nun on an out of control Harley with a badminton racquet. Zombies aren’t evil, they just have upset stomachs! Like a starving roommate on a finger licking adventure to trots-Ville in porcelain land. Zombies are probably just too impatient to pop the brain or leg in the microwave for 3 min turning over after 2 min and making sure to use the special tinfoil like crisping tray. The brain is like a gold mine of dysentery, like a college student sucking down a medium rare chick fillet. Zombies are just really pissed off because they can’t figure out how to change the power setting on the microwave back to 10 while that incessant light blinks 12:00 over and over again. So maybe if next time the gates of the infernal pits open again and long since dead start moaning about crispy delicious brains we could take a minute to club a PETA loving, green peace promoting, acid popping freak Hippie! Feed the hippie’s pot addled brain to the living dead with a side of fries and one of those parsley sprigs. Then when they have calmed down and stop moaning all the time because of ill prepared meals and upset stomachs we can put them to work. We can start at state colleges teaching physical education, put a paper hat on them and teach them to use two baskets in the fry-illator at the same time, or simply send the whole lot of them to Berkley were mindless drones with a rotting smell would fit right in. So remember cook your chicken, club a hippie, and avoid nuns on Harleys’.