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Old 11-28-2006, 08:00 AM   #102
St. Jimmy
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Join Date: Dec 2005
Location: The Streets of shame
Posts: 1,461
Jimmy ran along a mezanine. He hadn't thought of looking down to the floor below untill now.
"Jackpot!"
Thousands of zombies thronged in a mass of rotting flesh and pained moans. His eyes lit up as his smile slowly spread across his face. Thinking about nothing except the glory of ninjas, he balanced on one arm and jumped down to the floor below. A sudden, sharp pain jolted through his legs as he landed and he almost buckled. Only half realising the pain he immediately straightened. Flailing his bat in a frenzy of hope, pride, ninja love and fury, he fought as many as he could while desperately handing out papers and getting signatures.

He swung his bat for what must have been forever, sweat dripping off of his chin, arms and legs straining to function. He was flagging, he needed to reach a point where he could get more advantage over the swarming zombies. Bashing his way through the hordes he made his way to the performance stage. From there he should be able to swing down at the masses and throw forms to the zombies he wasn't holding back.

Barely lifting himself with his arms, he finally got on the stage. Better, minimal zombies, and slightly more space. He began to throw paper at the oncoming swarm as the nearest of the attackers scaled the stage. Batting their heads, and pulping their arms he was losing time. Too may were around the stage, too many were climbing up. Now they were coming from each side aswell as from the ground, he turned around while stagnant arms reached for his legs. Swinging as fast as he could, his arms were beggining to fail. Closing in, the zombies crowded too close for him to swing his bat in full arcs anymore. He made jabbing motions at his assailants as he tried to pry his feet from the crowds behind him. They were close enough to reach out and touch. As he thrusted his bat, one of the nearest zombies slowly brushed the blow aside and pushed the bat away. With no weapon to aid him, he fought desperately with his tired hands. In one motion, the three closest figures reached out and firmly pushed him into the sea below. Slowly, he fell, brushing past the bodies on the way down. He landed on his back, too crowded to get up, he writhed and kicked with all that he had left. "You'll never take me! Ever!!!" He roared at them. Pinning him down with sheer mass and numbers, he was unable to move while an indifferent zombie repeatedly beat his chest with a crowbar, collapsing his ribcage and ending his breathing among other things. He was so hot while he lay there, everything was thick, the air, his body, his thoughts. So hard, so hot. His mucsles stopped tensing as he lost conciousness shortly followed by his heartbeat.

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St. Jimmy
- 2006
K.I.A.




The following tale of alien encounter is true and by true, I mean false. Its all lies. But they're entertaining lies, and in the end isn't that the real truth? The answer is no.
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