Brian: Look, I swear that’s Jesus over there.
Mike: I think you right, I tell you what go over and speak to him, and I will pay for dinner.
Brian: Sounds appealing, but blimey Mike it’s Jesus, what on earth would I say to him?
Mike: Ask him anything, I’m sure he’s very approachable, he’s only sitting alone having a glass of milk, maybe he could do with a bit of company.
Brian: Alright here goes nothing. (Walks over to a milk sipping Jesus) Hi Jesus, I take it you are Jesus?
Jesus: Of course.
Brian: So you are real then?
Jesus: What’s that supposed to mean?
Brian: I thought you may have been a rumour, you know born out of a severe case of Chinese whispers.
Jesus: My dear brother, I can assure you that is not the case. I’m real and I’m back walking the earth on this fine Easter Sunday.
Brian: Ah so you live again, again. In fact I lost count, how many times have you died and come back to life?
Jesus: I die for you. I die for everyone.
Mike: Hey Brian, ask him if he’s a Zombie.
Jesus: Michael, I am not a zombie, for I am here, now living and breathing, a zombie is the walking dead, I do walk, but I am not dead! I’m back.
Mike: What you doing here then? Drinking milk?
Jesus: I have come back to walk the earth…
Mike: And drink milk.
Brian: Mike man…
Jesus: Do you believe in me, Brian and Michael? Do you believe in the power of God?
Mike: Well to be honest mate it all sounds…..
Brian: Hold on mate lets hear what he has to say first! Say we do believe in you, and God and all that, what would that mean exactly?
Jesus: Have you not read the Bible?
Mike: Nah man, we don’t like books, I read the Daily Star though, but your not mentioned too much, no offence. So what happens if we believe?
Jesus: Very well., if you believe and follow our religion, read the bible and pray, and love myself and our Lord ,you will be granted eternal life, if you don’t you will perish.
Mike: Bit harsh.
Brian: We believe we believe, Jesus save us from our sins.
Jesus: I will die for the world once more! But first I shall finish my milk.
Mike: It’s been an odd day.
Brian: Don’t piss him off Mike, you heard what they can do.
Mike: Alright alright, don’t see why he and the mighty Lord get the final say so. I would like some say in how my life goes,
Brian: Shut up will you, can I trust you to not offend him whilst I go to the toilet.
Mike: (Whispers) I won’t, to be honest it sounds like a good deal, just read a book and do as we are told we get to live forever, Christmas has come early, ha literally!
Brian: Exactly, and he is gonna die for the world again this afternoon, at least we can go for a pint.
Mike: Okay. (Brian walks off and goes to the toilet, Mike turns to Jesus, who is just finishing his Milk) Jesus does it bother you that the date you died changes every year so it can fall on a Sunday, and the fact you died for our sins, and we celebrate that by eating chocolate eggs, bit weird init!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter Special; Zombies - Jow Bates
I had little patience for Ikea. The vast MDF metropolis seemed to span on indefinitely past reasonable walking distance, the narrow paths adorned with boastfully simple designs that belied the complexity of their construction. The end rewards comprising themselves of infinite ketchup and the victory mantra of; "some assembly required".
"Not a good day."
I slumped against my hastily built and lopsided credenza, basking in the cool relief of pseudo-accomplishment. There had been little to no help provided for me as I'd navigated the endless towers of Ikea's warehouse-come-citadel, obviously another shopping centre in which I'm just sort of 'expected to know' what I'm doing.
"I fucking hate shopping." I announced to a jar of supposedly "Swedish" hotdogs. Still, despite missing a leg, the credenza seemed sturdy enough and I suppose I can take some solace in that.
"Cheers Sweden, here's to shit furniture, Vikings and inexplicably fast, rural broadband."
I toasted the sentiment with a cold hotdog, which I raised accordingly before swallowing the gastronomic afterbirth that was Ikea cuisine.
As evening bled away into night and the sky's blue darkened through pink to black, I lay awake listening to the wind. The increasingly rare sound of nocturnal wildlife ebbed briefly, adding it's own predatory serenity to the scene before the groaning set in. Between the gargled moans of vacant transience, the occasional crash piqued its way in from the distance. Like wayward drunks ambling waywardly into things, struggling to make their way home coherently.
Waking early, I sat up to gaze out of the third floor Ikea window, my back resting against the lopsided credenza now blocking the closet door. The morning sky looked more-or-less the same as it ever had, dawn seeping orange into blue. Less birds though.
Easter Special; Zombies - Pumpkin Sheepshanks
"Fast forward till payday.
Consume, recharge, deplete,
evolve in your sleep."
An old bearded man dressed in a cape sat on a stool reciting poetry in a tent on the top of the hill on a clear blue skied day. Local bands played to a few dozen kids on stages much too big for them. Singers stared scared into the crowd who were too bothered by the heat to care. A delinquint stumbled past an associate who was looking for his girlfriend, who had gone to get some food a half hour ago. The fear in his eyes was plain to see as their relationship was metaphorically like a plane to sea. The delinquint thought this quick enough to consider saying it as a show of wit, such was his susceptibility in reading people he instead mumbled good luck with a face than portrayed sad recognition of the facts.
Wandering through the maze of people, the delinquint vibrated at a frequency mutated by vegatable abuse and mineral malnutrition. he was out of sync with the majority of people here, bar a group of people he was gravitating towards. Dressed differently to the others, and with a slightly paler complection that from afar made them look like they were in a black and white photo cropped in the middle of the technicoloured perception currently presided over by the delinquint.
"Did you get my icecream" David asked.
The Delinquint tried to give a look that conveyed bemusement but given his gormlessness his face failed to change. "Does it look like I got your icecream?" The delinquint stammered.
David looked at him, hurt, and said "You could have eaten it on the way".
A bottle of Robinsons was passed round and the spread of herpes continued. Unbeknown to the group, their combined skankiness cross mutated on the crust surrounding the residue of the rim of the bottle into the worlds first viable zombie strain. Such was their unnattractiveness and lack of sexual appeal, their eventual deaths went by without effecting humanity as a whole. Their lives continued as nothing had happened.
Consume, recharge, deplete,
evolve in your sleep."
An old bearded man dressed in a cape sat on a stool reciting poetry in a tent on the top of the hill on a clear blue skied day. Local bands played to a few dozen kids on stages much too big for them. Singers stared scared into the crowd who were too bothered by the heat to care. A delinquint stumbled past an associate who was looking for his girlfriend, who had gone to get some food a half hour ago. The fear in his eyes was plain to see as their relationship was metaphorically like a plane to sea. The delinquint thought this quick enough to consider saying it as a show of wit, such was his susceptibility in reading people he instead mumbled good luck with a face than portrayed sad recognition of the facts.
Wandering through the maze of people, the delinquint vibrated at a frequency mutated by vegatable abuse and mineral malnutrition. he was out of sync with the majority of people here, bar a group of people he was gravitating towards. Dressed differently to the others, and with a slightly paler complection that from afar made them look like they were in a black and white photo cropped in the middle of the technicoloured perception currently presided over by the delinquint.
"Did you get my icecream" David asked.
The Delinquint tried to give a look that conveyed bemusement but given his gormlessness his face failed to change. "Does it look like I got your icecream?" The delinquint stammered.
David looked at him, hurt, and said "You could have eaten it on the way".
A bottle of Robinsons was passed round and the spread of herpes continued. Unbeknown to the group, their combined skankiness cross mutated on the crust surrounding the residue of the rim of the bottle into the worlds first viable zombie strain. Such was their unnattractiveness and lack of sexual appeal, their eventual deaths went by without effecting humanity as a whole. Their lives continued as nothing had happened.
Easter Special; Zombies - Moses Wallace
And it was at this very moment Jesus rose from the dead, but he didnt look all to enlitened, he was limping and making a strange 'URGHHHHH' sound. Not a sound produced from the tongue more of a humming sound from the pharynx.
"Oh my son, you truelly are the son of God" Mary proclaimed with joy as she saw her reborn seed. "URGHHHHHH" Jesus said as if a sign of recognition to his beloved Mother, while rapidly reaching his destination......
Mary half ran to embrace the saviour Jesus Christ, but as she did so he clenched more tightly then then first imagined. So tight her respiratory system struggled to draw breathe from the oxygen abundent atomsphere.
"What areeeee youuu..." a whisper of the start of a sentence came out Mary tried to concieve what was happening and why her only son would not let go, perhaps just a very strong sign of affection a thought pranced in her oxygen deprived brain.
A few seconds after the initial embrace, with one swift shift in weight and muscle drive the zombie Christ had his brunch in sight. Mary half concious could only dialate her pupils in response to this most perlexing and brutal act, while the original holy man of the dead munched on her fractured skull; face like a granny smiths apple.
Unbenown to the freshly suppered corpse the three roman guards who were on sentry duty at his grave had lept into action. Thrusting, jabbing and swinging at Jesus's back with no avail..... as now not only did they have the undead son of god but now he was PISSED OFF. A well timed spear attack hit directly where a normal mans heart would be, no such injury seemed to occur.
"In the name of God what is this obomanation??" the lunging spearman hoarsley shouted. "Haha I know this isnt the time but...really? In the name of God?? Don't think thats gonna help us" chuckled the second gaurd while swinging at the advancing zombie. while fear was very much evident in his eyes. "Get your arse here romus" they both screamed at the third guard who was in a ball on the floor trying to pray while gibberish came out.
BAM, the first strike hit the romans kneck with such force it rederred him unoperatable while he hunched down on the cold hard slabs of stone. The praying gaurd ran to the everpressing Jesus's feet. Which needless to say done nothing to stop the quick decapitation of the god fearing man. "please, what do you want? I'm sorry im sorry" the remaining man in armour sobbed, while glancing at the headless bosy and the other dying man.
"so much blood, so much blood" were the last words he uttered before his jugular was ripped out by jesus's teeth.
"huhmmmh, EXCUSE ME SIR!! I dont think that is how jesus's ressurrection happened!" infront of the very naustious looking sunday school of children, some of whom crying. "perpas your right, perhaps your right" said the one time sunday school teacher, who dropped out of school ealier that year.
"NOW, I must ask you to leave Mr!!!!" the reverrands mousy looking wife proclaimed with a might which wasnt evident with her frame.
"okayokay, but before I go...one thing I must say." Troy said while walking to the door and turing his head mid sentence.
"which is?" she retorted.
" Jesus was still a zombie" he laughed.
"Oh my son, you truelly are the son of God" Mary proclaimed with joy as she saw her reborn seed. "URGHHHHHH" Jesus said as if a sign of recognition to his beloved Mother, while rapidly reaching his destination......
Mary half ran to embrace the saviour Jesus Christ, but as she did so he clenched more tightly then then first imagined. So tight her respiratory system struggled to draw breathe from the oxygen abundent atomsphere.
"What areeeee youuu..." a whisper of the start of a sentence came out Mary tried to concieve what was happening and why her only son would not let go, perhaps just a very strong sign of affection a thought pranced in her oxygen deprived brain.
A few seconds after the initial embrace, with one swift shift in weight and muscle drive the zombie Christ had his brunch in sight. Mary half concious could only dialate her pupils in response to this most perlexing and brutal act, while the original holy man of the dead munched on her fractured skull; face like a granny smiths apple.
Unbenown to the freshly suppered corpse the three roman guards who were on sentry duty at his grave had lept into action. Thrusting, jabbing and swinging at Jesus's back with no avail..... as now not only did they have the undead son of god but now he was PISSED OFF. A well timed spear attack hit directly where a normal mans heart would be, no such injury seemed to occur.
"In the name of God what is this obomanation??" the lunging spearman hoarsley shouted. "Haha I know this isnt the time but...really? In the name of God?? Don't think thats gonna help us" chuckled the second gaurd while swinging at the advancing zombie. while fear was very much evident in his eyes. "Get your arse here romus" they both screamed at the third guard who was in a ball on the floor trying to pray while gibberish came out.
BAM, the first strike hit the romans kneck with such force it rederred him unoperatable while he hunched down on the cold hard slabs of stone. The praying gaurd ran to the everpressing Jesus's feet. Which needless to say done nothing to stop the quick decapitation of the god fearing man. "please, what do you want? I'm sorry im sorry" the remaining man in armour sobbed, while glancing at the headless bosy and the other dying man.
"so much blood, so much blood" were the last words he uttered before his jugular was ripped out by jesus's teeth.
"huhmmmh, EXCUSE ME SIR!! I dont think that is how jesus's ressurrection happened!" infront of the very naustious looking sunday school of children, some of whom crying. "perpas your right, perhaps your right" said the one time sunday school teacher, who dropped out of school ealier that year.
"NOW, I must ask you to leave Mr!!!!" the reverrands mousy looking wife proclaimed with a might which wasnt evident with her frame.
"okayokay, but before I go...one thing I must say." Troy said while walking to the door and turing his head mid sentence.
"which is?" she retorted.
" Jesus was still a zombie" he laughed.
Easter Special; Zombies - David Ralph
As it pulled back on its last breath, it stopped and thought ...
I'll go for another, munching on the side of its face displaced and in a very small space, no need for the seasoning get to the nitty gritty. your teeth u see are still a part of you thats alive in me.
I'll go for another, munching on the side of its face displaced and in a very small space, no need for the seasoning get to the nitty gritty. your teeth u see are still a part of you thats alive in me.
Easter Special; Zombies - Butters
...And as he rose from the ground, to each and everyone an egg was held. His face was withered and his eyes well sunken, this was not Jesus, this was not our brethren.
LOL ANON.
LOL ANON.
Easter Special; Zombies - Mr. Bastard
The stone rolled back and the screaming began.
Mary was confused. Was it the legs, the head or the hands? What killed this thing? He had eaten three from twelve and seemed hungry for more.
Remembering her teachings Mary intoned the secret mathematics that could only be spoken, never written, and shifted back in time.
“Here!” She cried.
Iscariot reeled, surprised, thinking himself alone. Mary had appeared from nowhere. She forced fifty pieces of silver into his hands. This smelt fishy.
“Make sure they nail his feet and hands, I'm pretty sure that's how you kill them. If you have a spare one do the brain, but mainly concentrate on the hands and feet. Generally I'm pretty cross with him.”
Iscariot was easily inspired and had recently invested in a carpenters shop.
Mary was confused. Was it the legs, the head or the hands? What killed this thing? He had eaten three from twelve and seemed hungry for more.
Remembering her teachings Mary intoned the secret mathematics that could only be spoken, never written, and shifted back in time.
“Here!” She cried.
Iscariot reeled, surprised, thinking himself alone. Mary had appeared from nowhere. She forced fifty pieces of silver into his hands. This smelt fishy.
“Make sure they nail his feet and hands, I'm pretty sure that's how you kill them. If you have a spare one do the brain, but mainly concentrate on the hands and feet. Generally I'm pretty cross with him.”
Iscariot was easily inspired and had recently invested in a carpenters shop.
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