Zombies of the Corn
Beautiful zombies, stumbling ever so elegantly to have tea time with the juicy humans. They must not be greedy with all the corn that which grows around their rotting flesh. "Share," they moan in unison, but the humans cannot tell. The humans always hear their pleas of selflessness, but always in vain. To the sound of their pleas, one human whips out a gun, and someone else whips out two more. The zombies groan, "We just want to be friends with you!" However, the humans only seem to imagine them saying, "Fresh Delicious flesh!" One, two, three, four, maybe five bullets leave the barrels of the guns, piercing strait through the heads of the zombies; zombies whom merely wished to share their corn.
