"Hey T, are you going anywhere yet?"
"Not yet. I ain't smackin any of them with my van either. It's heckuva strong, but so are they."
"Well, you think you could stop by the bakery?"
"What for?" he asked as he started heading towards the bakery.
"We need to pick a few people up. Don't worry, they'll come in through my side."
"Dang straight they're coming in through your side." Mr. T beeped a few times as we got closer to the bakery, drawing no attention from the zombies but a bit from the human locals.
Sharon ran into the van and Mr. T sped off without any hesitation. "The baker got eaten," she explained. "I broke a stale, old loaf of French bread over the zombie's head, ran out and locked him in. Thank God you got here in time."
"Any ideas where we should go?" I had an idea but was hoping she had gotten the same thing out of the trip I sent her on.
"Yeah. The guy I went to earlier today told me to go to the hotel. Mostly because it creeps him out. He said he heard stuff about it too, but it's like one of those childhood fears. He heard it so long ago he can't remember what there was to be afraid of."
"I heard the same thing, but no reason. The guy seemed pretty reliable."
"So what's the plan? The A-Team don't go in without a plan," T said. It was amazing how he was able to adjust all the jewelry on his upper limbs while driving around the small streets of Threed at over 70 MPH in an old van.
"Ok, a plan. I'm sure these zombies didn't have much of a plan after they got here."
"Well, T does. I pity the foos who do enough wrong to bring me in, but I don't just throw them and torch them. If that crazy Murdock thought like that, he never would have out-run the entire Russian army on a hand-built go-cart back in the 80's."
"Ok, you just keep driving. Let me out near the tent and just keep going around like this. Remember to watch for me near the hotel." There was an awkward pause. "Don't worry, I have a backup plan. But I'm just keeping that to myself in case the zombies get you and try to interrogate you."
"Now, that's better." Mr. T took his left hand off the wheel and started digging around under the driver's seat for something. "You've earned this. Use it, you know I did." He handed me the flamethrower he used with the A-Team. Just holding it made me want to bust some heads and dismember some zombies.
Mr. T stopped while I was going over a potential situation in my head. "Good luck, Strong. Don't leave me with nothing but cheese pizzas and penny-tips," Sharon said, breaking me out of the brief daydream.
"Don't worry. If you can take care of those zombies with a loaf of bread, I should have no problem with T's weaponry." I jumped out of the van and went behind the tent. There was no hesitation and the van sped off pretty quickly. I got myself ready for anything that could have happened then peered over at the hotel. It looked ordinary enough. I decided to take the long way out due to curiosity and glanced in the tent as I walked by the opening. I did a double take as a pair of white sneakers caught my attention. They were in the middle of the tent and to the right of them, I saw a young girl. She was blonde, alive but on her back. With an old-fashioned, but good-looking dress on, she was pretty stylish too. "You're not a corpse, right?"
"Right, but stay where you are." I looked down at my feet, still on the soft grass. "There's this new sticky flooring here closer to the middle and I can't get off it. It's like fly paper."
"Well, I can't just leave you here. I'm basically going on a suicide mission myself, so why not take a risk here?"
"Go ahead, but I just don't see any way to get me out without getting yourself stuck."
"Sure there is. I just need some time." I edged into the tent for cover, prodding the flooring with the flamethrower to check for stickiness. I only needed a few minutes then I decided to do things 80's style. I tested the flamethrower out and aimed it at the top of the tent. I set a bit of the cloth on fire and carved something I'd be able to grab with my new favorite tool. I stomped a bit of the fire out as the long piece fell to me. I threw it into the inner lining and carefully stepped across as the top of the roof burned slowly. I could have wheeled a few dozen geezers out of there. The tent was burning much slower than I had expected. She was able to grab onto one end of the flamethrower and it took a group effort to get her off the sticky flypaper-like ground. "Quick, the tent's on fire!", I shouted as we ran from the flaming thing. I never knew what to call tents. Sure, they can get big, but you'd never call it a separate building.
"Jump!" It was expected. It was overdone. It was classic. We jumped as the flaming tent exploded, taking a conveniently placed table as cover. The girl began getting up to observe the flaming wreckage. "No, stay down," I warned. "The fire's spreading to the trash can." We both stared at the trash can as the tent fire grew. I jumped behind the table as I saw that it had reached the trash can. Surprisingly, the trash can took the fire normally. The brilliant flame simply rose slowly out of the metallic cylinder. We got up and started looking at the fiery mess we had caused.
"The tree!", she warned as I leapt to the ground, taking her with me. The huge tree next to the trash can had caught fire and had exploded, just as, if not more, loudly than the tree.
"Ok, I think that's everything," I said after a few moments on the ground. "I don't think anyone heard all that. Sure, blow up a few things is fine with the locals and the local undead. Just as long as you don't step on that squeaky board everyone finds at night." I got up, helped the girl up and realized I still didn't know who she was. "I'm Captain Strong of the Onett force. So, what's your name?"
"I'm Paula and we're surrounded by a circle of zombies." I looked around and could have argued that it was an ellipse, not a circle. I decided I'd bring it up later. We went back-to-back and I took the western side of the oval. I pointed my flamethrower at the nearest zombie and pulled the trigger. I was covered in zombie flesh and whatever guts were left as the thing exploded. "Oh, sorry. I left it on 80's mode." I switched it off 80's and pulled again. The zombie fell down and convulsed a bit without any visible wounds. "Dang, I thought they took 40's mode off these things." I looked a bit more closely at the thing and switched it to 90's mode. I pulled once again and the zombie burned up quite nicely. "How you doin back there?"
"Pretty good, Strong. These are easy to knock down, but I just can't keep them down." I looked over my shoulder. She was flinging some blue stuff at the zombies. It looked a bit like that thing Ness tried. I went back to my side and whipped out my pistol, which I was much more used to. I literally kicked a zombie's knees out and shot its shin-less body in the head. I pointed the flamethrower a bit more to the left and shot the zombies in front of me. I had taken care of most of the undead on my side and heard a drawn-out scream.
"What happened?" I turned around quickly and forgot to turn off the flamethrower. I would have felt bad for my accidental torching of Paula's head if the zombie hadn't started gnawing on her legs. I apologized then took care of the zombie who had caused all of this. I shot two of the remaining zombies in the head, lit the last with the flamethrower and threw him into what was left of the flaming tent.
"Not yet. I ain't smackin any of them with my van either. It's heckuva strong, but so are they."
"Well, you think you could stop by the bakery?"
"What for?" he asked as he started heading towards the bakery.
"We need to pick a few people up. Don't worry, they'll come in through my side."
"Dang straight they're coming in through your side." Mr. T beeped a few times as we got closer to the bakery, drawing no attention from the zombies but a bit from the human locals.
Sharon ran into the van and Mr. T sped off without any hesitation. "The baker got eaten," she explained. "I broke a stale, old loaf of French bread over the zombie's head, ran out and locked him in. Thank God you got here in time."
"Any ideas where we should go?" I had an idea but was hoping she had gotten the same thing out of the trip I sent her on.
"Yeah. The guy I went to earlier today told me to go to the hotel. Mostly because it creeps him out. He said he heard stuff about it too, but it's like one of those childhood fears. He heard it so long ago he can't remember what there was to be afraid of."
"I heard the same thing, but no reason. The guy seemed pretty reliable."
"So what's the plan? The A-Team don't go in without a plan," T said. It was amazing how he was able to adjust all the jewelry on his upper limbs while driving around the small streets of Threed at over 70 MPH in an old van.
"Ok, a plan. I'm sure these zombies didn't have much of a plan after they got here."
"Well, T does. I pity the foos who do enough wrong to bring me in, but I don't just throw them and torch them. If that crazy Murdock thought like that, he never would have out-run the entire Russian army on a hand-built go-cart back in the 80's."
"Ok, you just keep driving. Let me out near the tent and just keep going around like this. Remember to watch for me near the hotel." There was an awkward pause. "Don't worry, I have a backup plan. But I'm just keeping that to myself in case the zombies get you and try to interrogate you."
"Now, that's better." Mr. T took his left hand off the wheel and started digging around under the driver's seat for something. "You've earned this. Use it, you know I did." He handed me the flamethrower he used with the A-Team. Just holding it made me want to bust some heads and dismember some zombies.
Mr. T stopped while I was going over a potential situation in my head. "Good luck, Strong. Don't leave me with nothing but cheese pizzas and penny-tips," Sharon said, breaking me out of the brief daydream.
"Don't worry. If you can take care of those zombies with a loaf of bread, I should have no problem with T's weaponry." I jumped out of the van and went behind the tent. There was no hesitation and the van sped off pretty quickly. I got myself ready for anything that could have happened then peered over at the hotel. It looked ordinary enough. I decided to take the long way out due to curiosity and glanced in the tent as I walked by the opening. I did a double take as a pair of white sneakers caught my attention. They were in the middle of the tent and to the right of them, I saw a young girl. She was blonde, alive but on her back. With an old-fashioned, but good-looking dress on, she was pretty stylish too. "You're not a corpse, right?"
"Right, but stay where you are." I looked down at my feet, still on the soft grass. "There's this new sticky flooring here closer to the middle and I can't get off it. It's like fly paper."
"Well, I can't just leave you here. I'm basically going on a suicide mission myself, so why not take a risk here?"
"Go ahead, but I just don't see any way to get me out without getting yourself stuck."
"Sure there is. I just need some time." I edged into the tent for cover, prodding the flooring with the flamethrower to check for stickiness. I only needed a few minutes then I decided to do things 80's style. I tested the flamethrower out and aimed it at the top of the tent. I set a bit of the cloth on fire and carved something I'd be able to grab with my new favorite tool. I stomped a bit of the fire out as the long piece fell to me. I threw it into the inner lining and carefully stepped across as the top of the roof burned slowly. I could have wheeled a few dozen geezers out of there. The tent was burning much slower than I had expected. She was able to grab onto one end of the flamethrower and it took a group effort to get her off the sticky flypaper-like ground. "Quick, the tent's on fire!", I shouted as we ran from the flaming thing. I never knew what to call tents. Sure, they can get big, but you'd never call it a separate building.
"Jump!" It was expected. It was overdone. It was classic. We jumped as the flaming tent exploded, taking a conveniently placed table as cover. The girl began getting up to observe the flaming wreckage. "No, stay down," I warned. "The fire's spreading to the trash can." We both stared at the trash can as the tent fire grew. I jumped behind the table as I saw that it had reached the trash can. Surprisingly, the trash can took the fire normally. The brilliant flame simply rose slowly out of the metallic cylinder. We got up and started looking at the fiery mess we had caused.
"The tree!", she warned as I leapt to the ground, taking her with me. The huge tree next to the trash can had caught fire and had exploded, just as, if not more, loudly than the tree.
"Ok, I think that's everything," I said after a few moments on the ground. "I don't think anyone heard all that. Sure, blow up a few things is fine with the locals and the local undead. Just as long as you don't step on that squeaky board everyone finds at night." I got up, helped the girl up and realized I still didn't know who she was. "I'm Captain Strong of the Onett force. So, what's your name?"
"I'm Paula and we're surrounded by a circle of zombies." I looked around and could have argued that it was an ellipse, not a circle. I decided I'd bring it up later. We went back-to-back and I took the western side of the oval. I pointed my flamethrower at the nearest zombie and pulled the trigger. I was covered in zombie flesh and whatever guts were left as the thing exploded. "Oh, sorry. I left it on 80's mode." I switched it off 80's and pulled again. The zombie fell down and convulsed a bit without any visible wounds. "Dang, I thought they took 40's mode off these things." I looked a bit more closely at the thing and switched it to 90's mode. I pulled once again and the zombie burned up quite nicely. "How you doin back there?"
"Pretty good, Strong. These are easy to knock down, but I just can't keep them down." I looked over my shoulder. She was flinging some blue stuff at the zombies. It looked a bit like that thing Ness tried. I went back to my side and whipped out my pistol, which I was much more used to. I literally kicked a zombie's knees out and shot its shin-less body in the head. I pointed the flamethrower a bit more to the left and shot the zombies in front of me. I had taken care of most of the undead on my side and heard a drawn-out scream.
"What happened?" I turned around quickly and forgot to turn off the flamethrower. I would have felt bad for my accidental torching of Paula's head if the zombie hadn't started gnawing on her legs. I apologized then took care of the zombie who had caused all of this. I shot two of the remaining zombies in the head, lit the last with the flamethrower and threw him into what was left of the flaming tent.