We are a hungry horde of Zombies
(hungry horde of Zombies!)
The only thing on our minds is your brains
(Your brains! Your brains!)
This will come as no surprise (Surprise! Surprise!)
But we are at your doorstep (Doorstep! Doorstep!)
Before the day is over, before the day is over
We will have beaten you, we will have eaten you
Before the day is over, we will have you beaten and eaten!
The cry wasn’t very far anymore. Brad knew that they would be here soon. If he went to the front entrance and looked through the glass doors, he would probably be able to make them off in the distance. He knew they were close though; the songs never lied. Sure, they would exaggerate, or maybe be even borderline offensive – but the details of the songs themselves were always true. The style changed, but the message always remained clear: there was no escape, there was no hope, and the zombies were going to eat your brains.
“Why brains, anyway?” Brad asked the CEO of Z-Productions, which was only the hottest new television, movie, and music production company in the world.
“It’s simple word association,” the CEO said. He titled his sunglasses down so his eyes peered over the frames, which was generally associated as a ‘cool thing to do’. “When people hear the word ‘zombies,’ and are told to demonstrate what it reminds them of, they generally stick out there arms like so,” the CEO made his arms go stiff in front of his chest and moved them up and down slowly, “and then they start saying ‘braaaaaains’. We researched it. Four out of five zombie experts agree.” The CEO stared over his frames for a second longer, to add an extra element of cool, and then shoved the glasses back to their proper spot.
“That’s what I think of, too.” The middle aged, balding, and somewhat ugly bus driver named Earl had piped up. Jerry, the police officer; Marissa, the housewife; and Cindy, the girl-who-didn’t-take-any-of-society’s-shit all nodded their heads in approval. Cindy and Marissa were attractive looking, of course.
“I don’t know, doesn’t it just seem kind of like an overplayed idea? Something that we’re consistently bombarded with already? What about originality?” Brad said, determined to keep his mind somehow off of the impending doom that approached him in the form of his former friends, schoolmates, family, and loved ones. The CEO pulled his glasses down in a cool way once again.
“Dude, I didn’t get rich off by being original. I give the people what they want: Zombies that crave brains. When the public demands zombies, that’s what they’re talking about. Otherwise, we wouldn’t really be looking at zombies here, would we?” Earl the bus driver nodded his head as if he had just heard something profoundly philosophical. Jerry cocked his shotgun, Marissa sniffed, and Cindy let out a snort because she was too cool for these losers that she was trapped in a mall with.
Like every utility, electricity had been missing for days. It was a hot summer afternoon, and the lack of air conditioning made the mall almost unbearable. The only reason the five survivors remained held up together in the mall was for the small fact that it would be more uncomfortable in the middle of the zombie horde baring down outside. The cry rang out again.
We’re a bunch of zombies! Ain’t no way you’ll stop us!
We’ll come for your brains, we’re coming for your brains!
There’s a thousand of us, and there’s five of you!
But we’ll each get our chance to chew!
