“A disembodied hand crawled across the street, as behind it zombies in skimpy nurse uniforms turned their unseeing eyes towards me. If only I had not showered that day, but the fresh fruity scent of my hair drew them right to me. Such cruel irony; you know I have always dreamed to die by being torn apart by sexy nurses or policewomen, but although the nurse uniforms were revealing, the zombies were not at all sexy on account of their rotting flesh. And I’m not into males, zombies or no. Oh the horror! The unspeakable horror!”
“You could have just said that you didn’t have time for a shower this morning,” I said.
“When the zombie apocalypse comes, you will wish that you too smelled of dead rat,” he pointed an accusing finger at me.
“Sure,” I put in my nose plugs, “let’s get this over with.”
And we drove up to the lake to dump our failed virus experiment.
A Bolg? 