Zombies are for Realz
Chapter 2: So, England IS a Zombie
Kay, so you know how I said England is a zombie? Well ever since I got that cleared up, I didn't know what to do with him. I know he's not dead or anything, cause nations can't die, but since he's a zombie now he's practically indestructible. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger from the Terminator. Serious business yo.
And yeah, I knew I couldn't just leave him in the Super Wal-Mart parking lot so he could go suck the brains of MY citizens. (Except maybe that one dude and that cashier.) But other than them, no one messes with the U.S.A.! *Fistpump*
So, in the end I settled on putting him in my car, carefully, (haha, not really) while keeping his face away from me just in case he tried to bite me. In the end I just threw him in there cause he felt so nasty and gross. I never touched a zombie before, okay? And trust me, you wouldn't want to touch one. They feel so slimy and stuff.
Anyway, I buckled him up in the passenger seat cause zombies are stupid and wouldn't know what hit them when they're all buckled up. Since England doesn't have a brain anymore, he'll probably wake up and be all like, "Mmm yeah, give me ma manwich back dude." Hehe, I'm so smart, I've got zombie psychology DOWN.
Plus it was a good idea that I put him in the passenger seat. If I put him in the back it'll be like breaking those rules all over again! Man, I would totally survive in Zombieland.
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I continued to drive down the road until I got back to my apartment. I kept looking back at him in case he woke up yelling in weird zombie gibberish again, but all he had was this derpy expression on his face. I would say it was actually kind of cute, but I put that thought aside since he's a zombie, and zombies aren't cute when they're sucking your brains yo.
If y'all are wondering why I'm not scared of England as a zombie, I'll tell ya why. Cause, it's England. I mean, come on, even with no brain he'll be all polite and shit. It's second nature for him. Can't you just see him with a monocle sipping his tea like a boss while cutting into his manwich with a fork and knife? I bet he'll even set the table. When he was alive (well, he still is, but you know what I mean) he always bitched at me about my "etiquette" skills. Whatever that means. The only reason he was running after me in the parking lot was because he gets pissed real easy. Gotta make sure I'm not on his bad side since he's a zombie now.
When I think about it, it's a good thing the World Meeting is at my place, cause then I won't have to bring him back to the hotel room where people might see me dragging his body. They might get the wrong idea.
.
Damn, England's heavier then he looks! I gave him a piggy back ride back to my apartment (which is a pretty dangerous move, but he was knocked out cold) and Jesus was he heavy. I felt like I was gonna drop him when I was going up the stairs. He really needs to lay off on the scones.
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By the time I got back to my apartment it was already 11:34. Heh, I really took my time. It was probably cause I had to make all these decisions on what to do with England. Man, even as a zombie he's a piece of work!
The second I got into my apartment I threw him on the floor. Zombies don't have feelings, so I bet he didn't feel anything anyway.
After that I just stared at him sprawled on the floor for a few minutes. I didn't know what to do with him, all right? All these decisions were making my brain hurt. Not that I don't use it often! I just usually don't have to think about life and death situations. One wrong move, and bam! England bites me and it's all over. It's hard since this isn't a video game. In video games they usually tell you or give you a hint on what to do next, but at the moment I wasn't getting any!
In the end, I decided it'd be best to tie him up to a chair, because bad people are always tied up to chairs. Except in that new movie The Avengers, cause y'know that black widow chick is a good guy. (Her heritage aside. Damn commies—I mean Russians.) That movie is soooooo good by the way. Anyone who hasn't watched it is a loser with a big L.
Wait, what?
Oh yeah, so I was tying England up to this chair.
That's when I had a really good idea! I mean, woah, I felt so smart. And no, it had nothing to do with England tied up to a chair. I came up with a new invention. I call it, Hot Balls.
Yes, Hot balls. See, I was looking at the Snowballs in my cabinet after tying England up, (I was so disappointed when I realized while running away from England, that I left all my Hoho's and Twinkies in the parking lot. I bet those Walmart jerks are enjoying them right now. Damn.), when this idea just came to me! Snowballs consist of marshmallows right? So I thought, hey, marshmallows taste good when you cook them over a fire, so why not try it with snowballs? It'll be AMAZING.
Plus, I know England secretly likes marshmallows over a fire, like when he was singing that creepy ass campfire song during WWII. When he was saying "Bring on the fire, bring on the hell," he was probably talking about how he needed the fire to rise so he could get his marshmallow burnt. I know he likes 'em burnt, cause everything he cooks is.
I'm not sure about that "bring on the hell," part though. It seriously felt like he was summoning the devil, but that's silly of me. Like England can do anything like that, because black magic doesn't exist.
A/N: By the way, this story is nowhere near done. I have so many things that I want to happen, but yes, once again I have no clue how to word them. So I ended it at an awkward explanation of how America came up with the awesome idea of Hot Balls. (I swear there's a candy named that, but I can't remember for sure. Oops if there is. D8 Wait, maybe it was Red Balls.)
