I'm a firm believer that everyone, before they die, should write a zombie story. I think that is the definition of catharcism! because you never know if you will end up a zombie or not! Once it happens...you can't know. if you did not catch the first installment of James Faulk the Zombie Killer by moestavern19 in this post http://bbs.clutchfans.net/showpost.php?p=3511664&postcount=18 then read that first. moe wrote that while at work in like 15 minutes. It took me a 6-pack wandering around the mountains to and 4 hrs of thought to offer up James Faulk's next installment. here's my installment to the ongoing saga of James Faulk My best friend...who we called Chuck for the longest time...gave up that name at the same time he stopped letting us play basketball in his dads driveway. Growing up in llinois, we thought nothing about it. We had the key to the driveway lights, and we had a basketball. What else did we need. We were just fine. Being "fine" in the cornfields of Illinois meant having parent providers with enough neighbors who agreed that everything was "fine." We all believed it to be. Until there was a draught. But this year was not a draught. This year when Chuck dominated the high school scene as a mere sophmore with the rest of us. this was fluid. Fluid is not really the word we describe wrt to school; I mean, when have you ever heard an upper classman say..."y'all are so fluid" much less a teacher saying that. But they also said our class was indescribable. It was all so cool. What else is cool? You wake up at 6:30am to make the pop tarts and pour sugar milk on your Cherrios...after a night of similar dreams that you are not allowed to speak. Cold sweat seemed like a strange thing then. Cleaning the house without disturbing your new "step-mom" thinking...once again...thinking...will her boob ever pop out for me to see. That all seemed like a possibilty..... yeah. like at this point there remains any possibilty. You never really know what you will do when you give up on possibilites. I didn't learn that until after my dog Beta went for Chuck's neck. Beta kept biting; she was off her feet biting...Chuck just would not fall. He was dead already, but those muscles weren't. He didn't look at me or Beta. How else can you describe a zombie stare. What the hell are they looking at...even when a dog is eating their brain out...like Kevin in Spin City. Yep, that was the last thing i remember. All I knew was I had to get back into the house without spilling too much more blood. It attracts them. Was it even Beta's blood? I'm not so sure. Then you start thinking...is my dog now a zombie for eating a zombie's brain? I don't know what was worse at that moment...should I grieve for my best friend Chuck succumbing to bad luck or should I shoot by dog! But if Beta is not effected by the zombie virus...maybe that's the answer. I could easily collect a pack of stray dogs who lost their owner to zombiedom...I need a pack of a dozen dogs to survive. It appears they can sustain themselves on bad meat...aka...zombie flesh. And zombie flesh doesn't really smell like spoiled meat anyhow...until you eat their brain out. Then it goes "bad". Dogs won't even eat it after that. The difficult thing is getting the dogs to go for the brains. They seem to like the appendages more...which doesn't do anything to stop the hordes of zombies bothering me while I pee. I mean, that just pisses me off.
