The infected don’t bite. They’re worse. They dab. Violently. Their joints hyperextend, and each dab releases a shockwave of compressed Mountain Dew vapor. Highly acidic. Highly radical .
One of them spots me. He pulls out a foam finger. The finger is on fire. mlg virus
I’m writing this in a drained swimming pool. Outside, the sky is green like a bad greenscreen. A horde walks past. Their leader is wearing a fedora and a trench coat made of Dorito bags. He’s screaming, “M’lady,” at a fire hydrant. The infected don’t bite
He whispers: “Pwned.”
And then I’ll detonate the 4,000 cans of unshaken Monster Energy I’ve wired to the drain. Violently
I’ve seen a man try to drink an entire 2-liter of Code Red through his eye socket because “that’s how the pros do it.” I’ve seen a National Guard unit get wiped out by a single chorus of “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” played through a stolen church organ.