"Tommy," said Chuckie, hiding behind him. Phil and Lil's mommy was feasting on their daddy, his guts sprawled out onto the floor. "I'm scared Tommy."
Tommy tried not to focus on his wobbly legs as he found the courage to say, "It's okay, Chuckie. The grown ups... are just playing a game."
"A game, Tommy?" asked Chuckie.
"I don't like this game very much," said Phil.
"You dumb babies!" roared Angelica from behind them. She held Cynthia tightly in her hand. "They're not playing no silly game. This is the zonbie pocklipse!"
"The zonbie pocklipse?" questioned Chuckie, his face turning an ugly shade of green.
"What's that, Angelica?" asked Lil.
"It's when all the grownups get all whacked up in the head," she explained, "and start eating everything... even big dumb babies like you!"
"I don't want to be eated," said Chuckie, shaking.
"You're... you're lying, Angelica," said Tommy, trying to sound confident, but the sight before them told him otherwise. Phil and Lil's mommy had just caught sight of them and was moving towards them, hunger in her cold, dead eyes.
Just then Grandpa Pickles came running in with a shotgun in his hand. He had on his old military uniform and a big green helmet. "You stay away from my grand baby," he said. He loaded his gun and took a shot, hitting Betty Deville's shoulder. It only seemed to faze her a little bit and she kept walking slowly towards them. He shot at her again, this time hitting her leg. She fell over, but she continued moving, crawling on her hands and knees.
"Pops," said Stu Pickles, running into the room, Dil in his arms. "Did you really have to do it in front of the kids? Are you trying to traumatize them?"
"This is the world now," he said. He aimed for Betty Deville's head and shot again. It was like her head exploded. Bits and pieces of her brain were everywhere. The couch. The new television. Tommy's daddy's new invention. Some even landed in Chuckie's hair. "If these sports don't get used to it, then dagnabbit they just might die."