Zmd: Zombies Of Mass Destruction Page #5

---

- Stop, stop, okay?

That's fine. You have to start smaller.

So, just try,

"Mom, I have something to tell you."

Mom, I have something to tell you.

"I'm gay." Go.

I'm...

Life is filled with twists and turns.

I'm gay, Mom!

Mom?

Mom, I'm gay.

A homo, and a pretty good one, too.

- I suck dick, Mom.

- Sometimes.

Mom. Mom?

Mom?

Mom, I was born that way.

- It's nobody's fault.

- Mrs. Hunt, just calm down.

Look, if it's any consolation, he's the top.

- I receive.

- No, Mom, wait.

Mrs. Hunt, what are you doing?

Get off of him. What...

- Oh, my God. What the f*** is up her ass?

- I don't know. I'll get her meds.

Jesus, Mrs. Hunt. Her eyes!

Tom, get in here. Her eyes.

Mom, take these pills. Come on.

Mrs. Hunt, I'm not afraid to use this.

Mom, what are you doing?

Oh, God! Oh, God.

God!

That is how my dad reacted.

- Oh, God!

- Help!

Mommy ate Daddy.

I'm gonna take you home with me, okay?

My house is just across the street.

- What's your name, sweetie?

- Lisa.

Lisa, everything is going to be okay.

All right?

Nothing bad is going to happen to you.

I promise, okay?

Okay, let's go.

There's me on Santa's lap.

There's Dad in front of the old house.

Yeah? Dad? Remember? Carl?

Here.

No, no, okay.

No, she did not just eat her own eye.

Thomas, we are getting the f*** up

off this island.

Tom.

Get over here now.

News. News. Turn on the news.

- Nothing. Wait.

...no precedent in the history of our world.

Now tonight, in the normally quiet

island town of Port Gamble,

they are in the throes of a viral attack,

which purportedly turns its victims into,

well, what can be best described

as zombies.

Now these zombies have been described

as pale and slow moving,

with milky white eyes.

So, be on the lookout for these zombies.

They're all around you at this time...

Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad, let me in!

- Frida, hurry. Come over here. Hurry, hurry.

- Dad! Dad!

Hurry, hurry. Come over here. Come on.

Come on, get over here, hurry. Hurry, get in.

Frida.

God! No! No!

- Get away from the door, honey.

- Oh, God!

God damn you, zombie.

He bit me. Oh, my God.

Look at this, he bit me. Oh, God!

Zombie bastard!

God.

If you look at the evidence,

of which there's very little,

there is no conclusive proof that this was

a terrorist act...

Not conclusive? Son, you're about

a river short of a glass of water.

- The people...

- I, for one, believe

that our President has

spread our defense resources entirely...

Gentlemen, gentlemen, we'll not get

any words in here edgewise.

- One at a time, please. Let's not...

- That's ignorant.

People of Port Gamble, get your guns

and your bombs and start exercising

your God-given right to exercise

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes