"You figure in a city of over thousands of people, I'd fucking run into at least one person who didn't eat a bad piece of meat." Cynthia scowled as she set her hands on her hips. "Then again most people here cut me off during rush hour, cut in front of me in line at the grocery store, grab my ass, peek through my windows when I'm in the shower, steal my mail, try to steal my identity, offer to buy me drinks, tell me I'm the one who's wrong- ah fuck it, I hope everyone in this city is dead meat."
She turned at the sound of another voice calling out; taking note of a figure not too far behind her, she tapped the end of her pipe against the street as she tried to deduct who this new figure was. "Well I guess a new contestant has entered the field." from the looks of it, he was human…a living one anyways. He had too many pieces intact to even qualify for a dead one, plus she couldn't smell his rotting flesh from here, so it seemed like things were good to go. "Nice to see another face around here…well a living one anyways…preferably in one piece without an eyeball hanging out. Anyways, you get my point. Now if we were to follow the movie clichés that happen in every event like this, then I guess I can give you three minutes to convince me to come with you and fight the massive wave of undead around us. Just kidding, I don't give a shit about any of that; although I suppose we could give ourselves a higher chance of surviving by sticking together, strength in numbers as they always say. So what's your name? Where did you come from? You're probably wondering why I'm speaking kind of fast, but truth be told, I haven't had a smoke or a good drink in at least two hours and sometimes I just try to keep talking till I eventually pass out…which would be my natural reaction to drinking and smoking too much-" she paused as she watched yet another undead figure stumble its way free from the crowded alleyway and start towards her. Sighing, she rolled her neck and picked up her pipe.
"Come on dude, you couldn't wait for me to finish talking? I got a lot to cover here."
The undead figure came within only swinging distance before she knocked it flat on its back; her pipe making a deep cavity in its decaying sternum. Stabbing the pipe through the rest of the decaying material, she clutched the melee weapon with both hands and twisted it till she heard the breastplate and ribs begin to crack and splinter away. She twisted it till her strength partly ran out on the motion and removed the now disgustingly-dripping pipe; afterwards, she planted the sharpened end nicely into the center of the creature's head.
"Sorry about that, these things just love to drool on my parade here." Cynthia panted. "Anyways, let's keep going with this whole 'introduction' thing. The name's Cynthia, Cynthia Burnside. Not sure if that's really an important piece to know but it will be followed by a 'I have no temptation or plan of using you for zombie bait just so I may get away safely' statement. After all, where's the fun in living in this big-old dead city by yourself?"