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« Bleubleubleu…pater-pater…prechi-precha…doug…bastard. » |
Going to the deserted cemetery of Miséricorde, Bob Parker didn't suspect that his future would deal with. It was the sunday december the 3d and he went forward the tomb of his forgotten grand grand grand grand father.
He felt by chance on a tombstone where the name of Roger Parker was written. He understood it was his doubleancestor's 'cause he recognised a wreath. He felt on knees and started to pray to the peace of his soul.
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« Bleubleubleu…pater-pater…prechi-precha…doug…bastard. » |
While the impossible happened: undead unlived creature who was old and smelled the decay, emerged suddently of a walt with an obvious intend to be madman.
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« Aaaaaarg, brain! Some frais flesh ! It was long time! » |
The putrid odour emanate from the creature made Bob turnaround. What he saw fill him with dismay.
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«Help! A creature came back of the bottom of ages! She looks ugly looking its sickness gums problems that it tap. But where have i put my box breton girdlecake? » |
Straight away unsinking he ran at mach 1 in the intention to avoid the fucking creature having invendent intention to attack his person. Then started a crazy race throught all this bitch of abandoned cemetery.
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« I have to be hurry in the intention to escape of this durty motherfucker putrefyly zombi !,have i got some carn between my teeth?, for this use my legs (precising Bob have his "brevet des collèges").» |
Guided by its instinct of revenge, the zombèze run as a potatoe-zombie but less clever and take himself a baobab in filled sucker.
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«Am i sillyl! It was me who has planted this sequoia! Bleuaark ! Panpipe! It make me late and i don't see my 4 H ! Brain ! » |
Profiting the zombeze hesitation , Bob afraid hide himself back of the biggest tomb for more discretion.
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«Here it will never find me. I made some hours to find this place, that same Batman couldn't find me! » |
The zombèze got some out of common flair. He was helped by the marvellous broad Bob's feet who's got to small shoes. At bend of a walt he surprised Bob.
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« Bleuaark ! I get you ! Now , it's you the wolf ! At you the sickness gums problems and baldness! Gnark ! Brain ! Zombfuck me ? » |
In a whispered, Bob die, atrosiously eat !
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« I am dead, i am hurted ? » |
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and the nightmarebecomedREALITY |
Written by Gibon and Pernico to excuse my french.
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