'I wonder if anyone else lives in this abandoned zombieland' I thought. Just as I was thinking, a smoker catches me with its unmistakably long tongue.

"Agh, What is it with these things!" I yelp, as the tongue starts to constrict me. "Help, someone!" I say as I run out of my last breath. When I feel like I'm going to pass out, I see a shadow running in my direction. "Over here! I think I might have found someone like us!" A man with a white tux and white pants stated. He ran over to me and chopped its tongue off. Instead of the low pitched grunt a smoker would make, It made a higher, more feminine grunt. Either way it fell off of the balcony and died. After I pulled off the slimy tongue, I thanked him.