The Morning After (the Zombie Apocalypse)

The meandering menace that had scoured my city had left just as slowly and unintelligibly as it came. I can still here the cries of those too preoccupied and inconvenienced to elude the encroaching horde. But they are no more.

Brains. "Why do they always want out brains?"

The boat rocked idly through the harbor, a deprave vista before me. Flames danced in the horizon, gnawing away at the spires and structures that once supported an American paradise. The water was sick with the bloated and dead, and one must watch their toes to avoid the casual nibbles that doom the soul.

My luscious companion grasps my manly physique, bringing me close. "We survived didn't we?"

Her eyes perfectly complemented her ethnicity. She was an amalgamation of every strain of hotness that blesses the weaker sex. I mean she was like, super hot.

"Yes." I said.

"Yes we…survived."

"We survived the Zombie apocalypse."

My shotgun was still warm from discharge, my long and slender shaft polished to a blinding sheen. My flowing man-locks wafted in the breeze, drenched in the stench of death and Loreal Just For Men Shampoo (designed specifically for the rugged intensity of a man's hair).

The silver blades of F-63 Fighter/Bomber/Ass-kicker assault recon aircraft still sliced through the sky, circling the carcass of a dead city. The military could destroy, but it couldn’t create.

Hotness brought me closer to her, "What do we do now?"

My steely gaze and pumped biceps embrace Sexylicious, "We make a new world, rising like a phoenix from the ashes…" The sun parts the clouds, as we are enveloped in a ray of heavenly light, "and we are going to have sex. We are going to have sex like you wouldn't believe."

Our lips meet, and for the first time in a long while, all is good.

Then zombie Orcas leap from the sea and tear her in twain, her torso spinning in the air like a whirly gig before another zombie Orca (or Shamu-Z, as he is know to friends) snatches her from the sky. The bite is so powerful that the blood pressure pops her like a balloon, showering me with the entrails of my beloved.

Two silicon implants plop into my hands.

I look at the neat little piles and I think:

Shit.