(Author's Note: Salutations! I would like to provide the whole of everyone whom lays their eyes upon my writing a rather consumptuous "Thank you". There is simply no need to have never read this writing. It is simply the best piece of literature ever written, and thus I would like to thank whomever has a taste in literature to whom decides to read this, even if you find the entity acatalectic.)
Chapter 1: ALAS POOR BYSTANDER
In a similar manner to turbulent automobiles, the chlorochrous creatures converged upon the customary bystander. Acting apprehensive, he attempted to retaliate with his bare fists. Alas, the zymosis of a bite has taken its toll. Whomever the person was, I have planned to make myself appear as if I were an autothaumaturgist.
"HUZZAH! IT IS I, SUPERO RJ MCAWESOMEZOMBEEKILLA, THE AMAZING ZOMBIE KILLER. I AM HERE TO BEAR YOUR BURDENS AND CONDEMN YOU TO REST UPON YOUR LIFE," I abstained. The impudent trepidation disported by the abhorred undead was revealed. My slick, brown, cowlicked quills that rest on the summit of my crown shone as I graciously leaped radically using my two limbs, both of which look battle-worn, and yet still irresistible to the damsels for which I knew, and I appeared from oblivion. My virility was evident if one were to gander at my amazing muscles, for many zombies I have encountered, and yet, I still survive. Hidden I was, and hidden I have still remained. There was no way my plans could have folded incorrectly.
A P90 (AN: That occurs to be the rifle that engrosses my fancy the most, especially whilst playing any Call of Duty game) in one hand, and a Coca-colain the other, I have made my mere debut in this calamity. Pulling the trigger, I heard the spitting of the firearm rapidly. Yes. It is simply beautiful. This is music to my ears. The death of zombies.
"OH MY GOD SUPERO YOU ARE SOOOO AMAZING!" shouted an indistinct, high-pitched squeal. It was a woman, I was certain. Unless...
Oh god no. It is he. That ugly prick Armando.
(The Subsequent Author's Note: Reiteratively would I like to say "Thank you" for applying the time to assimilate your ocular orbs to this prose. Alas, I chose to be the scribe of rather laconic writing, and yet I still remain gallant. If it would not concern you, please feel free to donate a review to me, it would be appreciated. My forthcoming chapter will be written by me, but I may handover the subsequent minority over to my acquaintances. So long.)