This week, it's time to switch teams. That's right, instead of playing the hero, write a scene from the point of view of a monster addressing a human. Your creature gets just 700 words of human speech. So what does it say?
Zombie:
Lost my foot last week. Can't figure out where I left it. Perhaps it was at the ZomBar, or in the vegetarian brains aisle at the market?
Maybe I dropped it when I was running from the Freshie with a baseball bat. Those Freshies are a danger to society, I tell you. Won't someone hurry up and bite them? Oh, wait. Sorry. Didn't see the nose. No offense or anything. Before you try to behead me, just tell me if you've seen my foot.
I went to the mobility class around noon. There was a cute skeleton there--narrow pelvic bone and tall, so I think male--who managed to scale the wall. Climbing walls! What a luxury. I've still got about twelve months before I lose enough flesh for that. Rigor mortis is such a pain.
But I suppose the bolts and screws surgery isn't all that appetizing. Without tendons ligaments, things tend to fall apart--case in point, foot. I hear the surgery is expensive. Some people just choose to fall apart rather than go on. But it's not like they couldn't get funding. What's forty or fifty years of front-line hording against the Freshies? Don't get pulverized to sand, and you've got an eternity to figure it out.
Or at least until the bones grind down. But metal caps are just an extra decade. Totally worth it.
Anyway, I'm planning on paying my own, or at least paying it back within the first decade. Got a "Lose That Excess Weight: How to Chop Off Flesh Without Losing Stability" book in the press right now. Thank goodness the Freshies didn't think the publishing houses were worth defending. Or the libraries. Their nice little fortifications are full of baseball bats, katanas, and rapidly-depleting ammunition, maybe a rooftop garden or two, but they haven't got three books to their collective names.
Too bad for you, good for us. For some reason, all the people with the reasonable zombie apocalypse plans got bit quickly. I think the Leader might have had something to do with that. Okay, I know, that's obvious. Everyone who has ever played a game of D&D (also among the first bitten) can tell you liches are excellent planners.
Of course the whole "stupid zombie" thing was wrong, but hey. No one blames you Freshies for falling prey to the Flesh propaganda. It was written long before you were ever born.
So anyway, if you see my left foot, mind sending it back over? I'll be a lot sturdier with it around. Otherwise, see you at the next highway party. Skins versus no skins, the usual. And if you're tired of that flesh thing you've got going, we're still recruiting. Just think it over, that's all I ask.
Thanks.
Zombie:
Lost my foot last week. Can't figure out where I left it. Perhaps it was at the ZomBar, or in the vegetarian brains aisle at the market?
Maybe I dropped it when I was running from the Freshie with a baseball bat. Those Freshies are a danger to society, I tell you. Won't someone hurry up and bite them? Oh, wait. Sorry. Didn't see the nose. No offense or anything. Before you try to behead me, just tell me if you've seen my foot.
I went to the mobility class around noon. There was a cute skeleton there--narrow pelvic bone and tall, so I think male--who managed to scale the wall. Climbing walls! What a luxury. I've still got about twelve months before I lose enough flesh for that. Rigor mortis is such a pain.
But I suppose the bolts and screws surgery isn't all that appetizing. Without tendons ligaments, things tend to fall apart--case in point, foot. I hear the surgery is expensive. Some people just choose to fall apart rather than go on. But it's not like they couldn't get funding. What's forty or fifty years of front-line hording against the Freshies? Don't get pulverized to sand, and you've got an eternity to figure it out.
Or at least until the bones grind down. But metal caps are just an extra decade. Totally worth it.
Anyway, I'm planning on paying my own, or at least paying it back within the first decade. Got a "Lose That Excess Weight: How to Chop Off Flesh Without Losing Stability" book in the press right now. Thank goodness the Freshies didn't think the publishing houses were worth defending. Or the libraries. Their nice little fortifications are full of baseball bats, katanas, and rapidly-depleting ammunition, maybe a rooftop garden or two, but they haven't got three books to their collective names.
Too bad for you, good for us. For some reason, all the people with the reasonable zombie apocalypse plans got bit quickly. I think the Leader might have had something to do with that. Okay, I know, that's obvious. Everyone who has ever played a game of D&D (also among the first bitten) can tell you liches are excellent planners.
Of course the whole "stupid zombie" thing was wrong, but hey. No one blames you Freshies for falling prey to the Flesh propaganda. It was written long before you were ever born.
So anyway, if you see my left foot, mind sending it back over? I'll be a lot sturdier with it around. Otherwise, see you at the next highway party. Skins versus no skins, the usual. And if you're tired of that flesh thing you've got going, we're still recruiting. Just think it over, that's all I ask.
Thanks.
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