Continue the Story - Zombie Invasion!

[Warkitty]

(this time, let's have a theme. Zombie Invasion. Who's in?)


It was raining again. That meant Sally would make pot roast. For some reason for her, rain meant pot roast. I'm getting real sick of pot roast this year. I found myself staring out the window that afternoon, wondering if the Mayans had it right when I saw

[LimitedRecourse]

what appeared to be my next door neighbor and his wife wandering aimlessly up the sidewalk toward our front door. I started to head for the front entrance way when suddenly I heard my own wife scream. I changed directions and ran toward the kitchen. I opened the swinging door and saw...

[ssmynkint]

... the raw roast on the floor. Sally, never at a loss when meat is involved, neatly speared it with the turning fork and plopped it back on the cutting board where traces of blood indicated her initial incisions.

[Ares]

I wondered if Sally was going to wash off the roast or not since it got on the floor but I didn't say anything cause she had sharp things and she looked funny.

[ssmynkint]

5 second rule, Ares.

[Ares]

What if Sally's dog licked it first?

[staffsgtsbunny]

Taking my eyes off Sally and the pot roast I looked back out the window and realized I lost sight of the neighbors. I waited for their knock at the door, which they normally did before they entered. We were fairly close neighbors, George and Marie and Sally and I, and Sally and I considered this their home as well as ours, but for some odd reason I could not shake this feeling of strangeness.......I waited for something......anything.....I heard.....

[Warkitty]

nothing. I looked again, only to find George and Marie were just standing there, eyes blank, staring at the bird bath in the front yard. Old Margie from across the street stepped out and I saw heard her voice yelling something, though the words weren't clear. She had her cast iron skillet in her hand and looked mad as a hornet. That wasn't unusual, she usually is mad as a hornet over something. Usually it's because Marie's cat used the rose garden for a toilet. She was moving towards George and Marie with a purposeful gleam in her eye, and

[BlackFox]

I, sensing trouble, and remembering my trick knee, asked Sally to fetch my old machete, which had been up on the shelf in the kitchen for years. I watched as Sally, wearing knee high leather boots, climbed up onto the kitchen counter and stretched out, in a teasing manner, for the machete. Regaining my thoughts, I..

[ohwell]

The Martians have landed. They do not like Sally's cooking. No pot roast. They want dead cats. Oh, WAIT, my dogs have defended the cats. Now the Martians are after my dogs. Ohwell. the Berretta 32 has solved that proplem. One of them has escaped and the problem continues.

[staffsgtsbunny]

Told Sally to stay inside the house while I went outside to investigate the situation further. As I opened the front door I could hear Margie's words muffled, but the panic in her voice was clear enough, and when I stepped out onto my stoop Marie's cat scuttled across the thresh hold and back into my house. I tried to catch the cat, for unknown reasons to me, but the scream from the cat as it streamed by me caught the attention of George and Marie, as they looked up in my general direction. I caught Margie's eye and

[LimitedRecourse]

she slowly began to form a smile. The broader her grin became, the greater my fear grew, her features taking on a gruesome slant. Margie began to stumble-step across the street. As if in unison, George and Marie bumped into each other and the bird bath and also began to slowly move toward me. I had to act fast, but a decision needed to be made: Should I stand and defend my home and family, should I move toward the street and attempt to lure the strangely acting neighbors away from my house or should I just close the door and try to keep them from gaining access to my abode? After a brief moment of conjecture, I chose to...