It was dusk as the crew rolled into Zombana, there clothes tattered and matted with blood. Not their blood of course. The blood of countless zombies that had been laid to waste for standing in their way. Brendan was shirtless; a bandana wrapped around his head. His face was covered in soot and ash from all the stuff he had blown up, just for fun. He carried a massive machine gun attached to a strap thrown over his shoulder to support what would otherwise be the unbearable weight of his instrument of death. Mada was also shirtless because her name spelled backwards is Adam and guys don't need shirts. Plus, she looked real good in that new bra she had bought from the Victoria's Secret across from the Babycrombie she worked at in the mall. That had been just two weeks ago, before all this chaos had been unleashed, but it seemed like another lifetime. Eliot skipped along next to her, desperately attempting to hold her hand without making it weird. He was wearing Birkenstocks and his Green Bay shorts, and, of course, no shirt.
It was freezing out, they all knew, but when you're in college you sometimes have to sacrifice comfort and logic in order to look your best. And these three were no exception to the rule. Eliot had even gone so far as to draw a 6-pack on his abdomen with Sharpie. Needless to say the lady zombies had been all over him since they had started their journey, and the guy zombies had all been trying to kill him out of what he deemed must be sheer jealous rage. What assholes.
"Well," said Brendan, finally breaking the silence. "We're here at last..." (Brendan had grown rather quiet and somber since being forced to kill the zombified Dolores O'Riordan along the way).
Eliot, ever the voice of reason, asked "So what do we now? I guess we should really have come up with a game plan before getting here..."
"Well, you guys are boring. I'm gonna go back to my room and watch a movie or something. See ya later, fellas," drawled Mada in an inexplicable southern twang.
The boys, after exchanging a look of confusion and utter defeat, scrambled to catch up with her. Even though she was walking, it took them like 5 minutes to finally reunite with her, due to her crazy and superhuman agility. "Woah, I didn't say you guys were allowed to join me, but whatever. My room is right around the corner," said Mada.
Several minutes later they were at the front door of the building. "AW SHIT. I forgot my keycard!" Mada exclaimed. But before she had even finished her sexy whining, Brendan had shock-and-awed the door off its hinges with one badass kick. After taking a moment to conceal how obviously impressed and turned on she was by this show of alphamaleism, the trio made their way inside and up to Mada's floor. About halfway down the hallway, though, Mada stopped short.
"What is it Mada? What's wrong?!?!" squeaked Eliot nervously.
"Oh nothing. But check this out. This fire alarm case is so fun to play with and when you push it this way -"
The plastic casing that had shielded the fire alarm from unintentionally deployment clattered to the ground, and as she scrambled to pick it up in hopes that nobody would notice her clumsiness (too late), she accidentally set off the fire alarm (how ironic).
"Ah...ah....ah..." stuttered Mada, terror etched on her face. The alarms were blaring. Surely every zombie in a mile radius would hear this... Brendan, quickly coming to the same realization, swept Mada up with one arm and grabbed the baffled Eliot by the scruff with the other, swiftly dragging them to the relative safety of Mada's conveniently unlocked room.
"I don't get it, guys! What's the big deal?" whined Eliot cluelessly.
After barricading the door, Brendan stood stoically in the center of the room, his gun aimed, ready to defend his friends with his life. Several minutes past, the tension palpable. And all the while, Eliot cowered in the corner, whilst Mada bounced on her bed and ran around the room restlessly. And then they heard it. The moaning of zombies. It was distant at first, but grew louder and louder as the horde grew nearer. The door started to shake, and then to splinter. A zombie hand burst through, and then another and another. Brendan opened fire.
The carnage was absolute. Zombie parts flew in all directions as the guerilla warrior unflinchingly mowed them down. Rank after rank of zombie fell, and it was starting to look like they may win this one after all. Brendan allowed himself a small, rare smile. But as if that had jinxed them, the sound of bullets thudding into the undead was suddenly replaced by a dull whirring and a click-click-click. He had run out of ammo...
Not knowing what to do now, Brendan began to panic. He threw down the gun that was now all but useless to him. His friends looked to their unspoken leader for advice, but he had none to give. He had failed them. His eyes filled with tears as he slumped against the far wall. This was it. There was nothing he could do.
Then all of a sudden, a noise rang out, and the zombies started to draw away from the door. Brendan couldn't put his finger on it at first. It sounded like...a chain saw! Someone else out there was alive and had come to their rescue! He dared to peek his head out of what remained of the doorway, and what he saw took his breath away/confused the shit out of him. There, in the hallway, an epic battle was being fought. There were four humans. One of them he instantly recognized as Classic Brian himself! In all of his shirtless glory, his ridiculously ripped abdomen was like a beacon of hope to the living. He wore jeans that were ripped and tattered and bright blue shoes that were inexplicably spotless and oh-so-cool looking. He was rocking the most badass pair of Oakley's ever to grace the earth. In his hands was a chain saw, just like Brendan had suspected, and Brian used it like it was an extension of his body. Countless zombies fell before him. Back to back with him fought the most beautiful creature Brendan had ever laid eyes on. She had gorgeous blonde hair and the prettiest face. She carried herself with such elegance and grace, even whilst cutting zombies to shreds with her broadsword. And in the corner, behind all the mayhem, Brendan could just make out who he assumed to be Nick, holding a leash which led to Robert's neck, who was obviously on all fours. Wait, what?!? Weren't they both supposed to be dead or zombified? And why the hell was Robert on a leash?! Over the screaming and the roar of the chain saw's blade, Brendan could swear he heard Nick critiquing Brian's form.
When the violence had ended, Brendan, Eliot, and Mada sheepishly emerged from the room.
"You got some splainin' to do, Brian!" Mada called out diplomatically.
The two saviors and their followers approached the timid trio with a swagger that could only be described as notoriously fly. Then all of a sudden, Mada squealed and nearly fainted, and Eliot let out a "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" They had realized who the mysterious and sexy warrior was. It was Semas Ailuj.
"Isn't she pretty, guys?" inquired Brian cooly between making out with her and yanking Robert's leash. "I found her on Green street. She took out the entire Pike pledge class. It was incredible. Now we're in love."
Mada glowered with envy whilst Eliot was torn between objecting to this latest development and comforting Mada with what he knew to be half-assed lies about how she was better than Semas Ailuj could ever be. He went with the latter, but was instantly shot down by Mada's untrusting rage.
"Ok, that's great," Brendan interjected. "Now please explain the whole Robert and Nick thing to me."
"Oh right. Well that's simple enough. When you guys left us to our meaningless sacrifice so that you could escape, we easily defeated the zombies and discovered Nick was very much alive and pretty pissed at us for ditching him. It turns out he can't die or be zombified because he's a mean robot. They aren't susceptible to either of those things. And as for Robert, he had obviously lost his mind to spite and gone psycho, but I didn't wanna kill him. He is my friend after all. So I just put him on this chain and brought him with. He's been really cooperative about it, strangely enough. I think it's because he knows I expected him not to be."
The group eyed Robert with some concern.
"Ok then...guess we should get goi-"
But before Eliot could finish that sentence, Robert had pulled out a knife and go-to-sleeped him for real, right in the neck, to death, just like he promised he would if he ever went psycho. Committed to the end. The group stood there, mouths agape, speechless.