1)\n\nArrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!\n\nThat's the sound, if you're interested, that a man makes when a zombie rips his head clean off. How do you know this? Well, you've just seen it happen and believe me it's not something you want to see again.\n\nRight now, you're crouched maybe ten feet away from the poor guy – sans head – watching as the zombie proceeds to eat him. It's horrific. And also kind of mesmerising. Like a car crash where you can't look away.\n\nUh oh. The zombie's just noticed you over here and, even though it's dead and can't really think for itself any more, it's still enough there to realise it's got a second meal on legs just in front of it. For a zombie, this is practically Christmas come early.\n\nYou'd better [[run|2]]
The following morning...\n\nYou're sat in a cell at the local police station explaining to a very angry police officer just why you caved in the head of a kid on his way to a fancy dress party. Your protest that "He was really a zombie! Honest, guv, you gotta believe me!" falls on deaf ears. They want to charge you with murder.\n\n"But he killed that poor bloke," you say. "Ripped his head clean off!"\n\n"Were you, by chance, in the theatre when this occurred?"\n\n"Well, yes..."\n\n"Watching a play called 'Attack of the Zombies'?"\n\n"Er, yes..."\n\n"It's called acting," the officer explains. And then goes on to read you your rights. Something tells you it's going to be a long night.
You snatch the cane. As you do, everything happens at once.\n\nThe little old lady cries, "Thief!" and kicks you in the groin.\n\nThe littler older lady cries, "Hoodlum!" and tries to kick you in the groin, only her leg won't go that high so she settles for kicking you in the knee instead. Which is equally painful.\n\nThen the door comes crashing open and the zombie kicks you in the groin. And bites your arm off. Which is also painful.\n\nThe cane doesn't really do you much good.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
You slam the door shut and lock it. And hold your breath.\n\nSilence. Perfect! Meaning the zombie didn't notice you coming in hear and you should be safe-\n\nOw! Someone just hit you from behind!\n\nFearing another zombie attack, you spin around to see...\n\nA little old lady clutching a cane! With another little old lady, this one even littler and even older, just behind her.\n\n"Ee our Doris!" says the little old lady. "It's a young man! He probably means to 'ave his wicked way with us!"\n\n"Hit him, Hilda!" says the littler older lady. "Best thing for it, youth of today. I 'member when all this was fields and..."\n\nOut of the frying pan and into the fire.\n\nYou could try [[explaining|27]] about the zombie apocalypse, [[ignore|29]] them and hurry through their house and out of the back door, or [[snatch|25]] the cane off the little old lady in case other zombies find you.
Ladies," you say. "All hell has broken loose. The dead have returned to life and are intent on killing the living. Even now, governments are likely toppling and civilisation is coming to an end."\n\nThe two old ladies look at each other, then one says, "I knew it! Young whippersnapper! He means to 'ave his wicked way with us, our Doris!" followed by the other saying, "Hit it, Hilda! Quick! Inna teef!"\n\nYou duck as the first little old lady swings for you, then duck again as the littler older lady throws something at you. At first you fear it might be a brick. Then, after discovering it was actually her teeth, you wish it had been a brick.\n\n"Ladies!" you cry, but you don't have time for anything else as the front door is [[battered down|28]].
You raise your fists. The zombie, after a moment's hesitation, raises his. This is quite a surreal moment. \n\n"Ready, old chap?" you say. \n\nThe zombie doesn't reply, beyond dribbling saliva and grunting incomprehensibly. First move seems to be yours.\n\nAn [[upper cut|21]] to the jaw? A [[kick|22]] to the groin? A [[double-handed smash|23]] to the top of the head? Difficult to say which might be best.
You punch the zombie under the chin, knocking its head back but not, unfortunately, off. The zombie staggers with the blow, and then seems to forget the two of you are meant to be having a gentlemanly game of fisticuffs and instead bites your hand off.\n\nYou fancy it might say, "Jolly bad luck, old chap," as you collapse in a daze, but that's probably just the blood loss talking.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
With devastating force, you kick the zombie in the groin which, being a male zombie, at least has the decency to look hurt, but then a horrible thing happens. Your foot becomes lodged in the zombie's groin!\n\nIf that wasn't bad enough, and in your opinion it most certainly was, the zombie sinks its teeth into your leg and starts to eat it.\n\nBest if we stop now before the zombie begins to chew your tender flesh, and your eyes begin to ooze out of their sockets due to the sheer brain, and your brain melts and drips out of your ears, and your nose ruptures and sprays blood and other equally horrid stuff all down you, and your bowels burst. There's no need to mention all that.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
As a veteran watcher of zombie movies and TV shows featuring zombies, you recall that a zombie's weak point is always its head, so you bring your fists together in a double-handed smash and then slam them down on top of the zombie's head. And crush its skull!\n\nThe zombie staggers about a bit, now partly headless and also wholly eyeless, trips over its own feet and falls in a heap on the ground. It flails around angrily for a few moments before abruptly dying. Again. Only this time you hope it will be a bit more permanent.\n\nWith all that out of the way, you [[hurry on home|24]] before anything else happens.
Unfortunately, the sounds of your struggle with the little old ladies have alerted the zombie, who has now battered the door down and is looking at you. For a moment it just stands there – probably confused because the food source it was chasing has now multiplied into three food sources – but you know it's indecision won't last long. Now it's either a case of you heroically [[fighting|12]] the zombie while the two old ladies make a run / hobble for it, or [[legging|13]] it while they slow it down. Heartless maybe, but you've got a lot more of your life to lead than they have.
You burst through the back door of the little old ladies' house and find yourself in a parking lot. You quickly assess it for danger. Cars? Check. High rail fence around it? Check. Dead man lurching out of a car and coming running at you? Check!\n\nThe zombie – it's a different one than before, but this doesn't make much of a difference because it still wants to eat your brain – snarls at you. For your part, you debate whether [[fighting|30]] it is a good idea. Probably not. You could try [[driving|31]] one of the cars away, [[jumping|33]] over the fence and fleeing or [[running|32]] back into the little old ladies' house.
You spin about and drive your fist into the zombie's face with devastating effect. Devastating to you, that is.\n\nThe zombie, being dead, isn't much bothered by pain and so your punch barely even slows it. You, being alive, are very bothered by pain and when the zombie's mouth clamps down on your fist and takes a huge chunk out of it, you and pain become intimately acquainted.\n\nAfter that, it's all over bar the shouting. And the screaming...\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]\n
You run. The zombie, unfortunately, also runs, and while in an ideal world this would be a clear cut case of you getting away – you, after all, being a human in peak condition and the zombie being a shambling corpse – in the real world – you, alas, being somewhat overweight, bloated from too many KFC dinners and evenings spent pwning folk in your favourite online games – the zombie seems to be quite a bit fitter than you are. Already you can feel its claws almost on the back of your neck...\n\nYou need a distraction. Or a miracle. But, as a miracle isn't likely to be forthcoming, a distraction will have to do.\n\nYou could try [[punching|3]] the zombie, [[tripping|4]] it up, [[falling|5]] over and pretending to be dead, [[begging|6]] it for mercy, [[ducking|8]] into the doorway you see just up ahead, or [[shouting|7]] for help.
You fall over and pretend to be dead. Unfortunately, this doesn't help matters much as the zombie now sees you as a meal lying on the ground as opposed to a meal which it needs to chase down, which for the zombie is great news. So it falls right on top of you and takes a chunk out of the back of your head before you can say, "Well, this might not have been such a great idea after all..."\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
On the plus side, you stick your leg out and the zombie trips over it and goes flying. On the down side, it takes a chunk out of your neck as it does and so when it's clambered back to its feet and come lurching at you, you're still there, clutching at your throat, noticing the unfortunate red colour of your hands and reflecting that you're probably going to miss the meal your girlfriend is cooking for you today.\n\nAh... the zombie's on you. Yes, you're definitely going to miss that meal.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
You shout for help. This has the unfortunate effect of alerting several dozen other zombies, who to this point had been mercifully unaware of your existence, that you're here. So now you don't just have a single zombie chasing you, you have 43 of them.\n\nLet's just say you don't last long and leave it that, shall we?\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]\n
You throw yourself on the zombie's mercy. The zombie, in return, throws itself on you and sinks its rotten teeth into your left eye. If you had to hazard a guess, you'd say that zombies don't have a lot of mercy.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]\n
You slam the door shut and lock it. At once, there's a thumping on the other side as the zombie tries to batter its way in. The door holds, for now, but it's fair rattling in its hinges and you don't much fancy the door's chances of-\n\nOw! Someone just hit you from behind!\n\nFearing another zombie attack, you spin around to see...\n\nA little old lady clutching a cane! With another little old lady, this one even littler and even older, just behind her.\n\n"Ee our Doris!" says the little old lady. "It's a young man! He probably means to 'ave his wicked way with us!"\n\n"Hit him, Hilda!" says the littler older lady. "Best thing for it, youth of today. I 'member when all this was fields and..."\n\nOut of the frying pan and into the fire.\n\nYou could try [[explaining|10]] about the zombie outside and hope this calms them down, [[ignore|14]] them and hurry through their house and out of the back door, or [[snatch|25]] the cane off the little old lady and get ready for the zombie breaking in.
You duck through the doorway, the zombie hot on your heels. How hot? Hot enough to see that you've ducked in here? In which case, [[slamming the door|9]] shut would be a bad idea, right? Then again, if it did see you duck in here, [[slamming the door|26]] shut would be a great idea as it would keep the zombie away from you. \n\nDecisions, decisions.
A Slight Problem with Zombies
The zombie bursts into the house of the two old ladies. For a moment it just stands there – probably confused because the food source it was chasing has now multiplied into three food sources – but you know its indecision won't last long. Now it's either a case of you heroically [[fighting|12]] the zombie while the two old ladies make a run / hobble for it, or [[legging|13]] it while they slow it down. Heartless maybe, but you've got a lot more of your life to lead than they have.
"Ladies," you say. "All hell has broken loose. The dead have returned to life and are intent on killing the living. Even now, governments are likely toppling and civilisation is coming to an end."\n\nThe two old ladies look at each other, then one says, "I knew it! Young whippersnapper! He means to 'ave his wicked way with us, our Doris!" followed by the other saying, "Hit it, Hilda! Quick! Inna teef!"\n\nYou duck as the first little old lady swings for you, then duck again as the littler older lady throws something at you. At first you fear it might be a brick. Then, after discovering it was actually her teeth, you wish it had been a brick.\n\n"Ladies!" you cry, but you don't have time for anything else as the front door is [[battered down|11]].
Reasoning that a) you can't save them anyway and b) you're a coward, you turn tail and run. The little old ladies hurl abuse at you, with the littler older lady also hurling a second pair of teeth (just how many does she have?) at you as you flee.\n\nAnd the zombie? The lousy stinking good for nothing zombie leaves them, doesn't even glance at them, and instead comes charging after you!\n\nYou need to [[run|14]] as fast as your legs can carry out.\n
It's the decent thing to do, after all: you tackling a zombie while the old ladies escape. It's also, alas, the worst possible thing to do in the circumstances.\n\nAs you grapple with the zombie, the little old lady belts you with her cane and gives a cry of, "Ooh, you young thug!" while the littler older lady, who has apparently retrieved her teeth (or has a second pair, you never know with these violent geriatrics), lobs said teeth at you again. You go down under a barrage of zombie bites, little old lady cane bashes and littler older lady teeth.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
You run. And, as you do, you experience the weird sense of having done this of this [[before|2]]...
You tear down an alley which is a sterling example of the quality of cleaners the city employs: i.e. it's about four feet deep in rubbish, rotten food and the occasional dead body (though with the current zombie epidemic in full swing, they might not be dead much longer). The zombie keeps pace with you. It might lack your speed, but it seems to be a dab hand at maintaining a lurch which can eat up the miles without effort. One thing's for sure: you aren't going to be able to outrun this thing. You either need to [[lose|15]] it or [[kill|16]] it. \n
Alas, the +5 Axe of Zombie Slaying doesn't exist outside of those online games you play. Pity really 'cos it really kicks zombie ass.\n\nAs a punishment for trying to use an item that doesn't exist in your world, the zombie rips your throat out and eats your brains.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
Knowing you can't run any further – and, let's be honest, way too cream-crackered to run any further anyway – you turn and face the zombie. As you watch it approach, you quickly do a swift inventory check to see if you've managed to pick up anything that might be useful in this situation.\n\nThe [[+5 Axe of Zombie Slaying|17]] would be great if you happen to have it. Or the [[Burning Crystal Sword|18]] of the Highlord Malorkian. Not as good would be a [[trusty mace|19]] but it's still worth having. Failing all that, it looks like it's a case of having a game of [[fisticuffs|20]] with the zombie and hoping for the best.
Here's the kicker: you don't actually have a mace. There's no doubt one out there, somewhere in the world, but there's not one available to you right at this moment.\n\nThe zombie senses it and rips your throat out. Or maybe he just feels like ripping your throat out. Either way, same end result.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
You wield the Burning Crystal Sword, a legendary weapon you've run around for years with in your favourite online game. It's such a cool, cool weapon that sometimes you even pretend to wield it in real life. It can cut through armour like grass and through grass like... like, well a great big sword made of crystal that's also on fire.\n\nUnfortunately, it's also a figment of your imagination and so when you wield it at the zombie, you're actually wielding empty air. And empty air doesn't hit very hard.\n\nThe zombie rips your hand off, then your arm, then your head. It's all very messy.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
You hop into the nearest car, start it up and drive it away.\n\nOnly you don't, because you don't have the key. So what really happens is that you jump into the nearest car, fumble around for a key, panic a bit, then hop out and run to another car... only the zombie, which has been gnawing on your arm this entire time, finally succeeds in yanking said arm off and after that...\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
You punch the zombie in the face. The zombie, for its part, bites your hand clean off.\n\nZombie 1; you 0.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
You slam into the fence, fall back on your ass and get eaten by a zombie. \n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]]
You athletically vault the fence and run away. You escape the zombie menace. You live happily ever after.\n\n[[Actually that's a lie. What really happens is...|34]]
You do an about turn and find the door locked. The little old ladies have locked you out here!\n\n"Ladies!" you cry, hammering on the door with your fists. "Ladies, let me in before- gurk! Garg! Gugg! Aarrrggghhhhhh!"\n\nThis last bit is the sound you make as the zombie starts eating the back of your head. It's followed by a loud "Yech!" but you don't need to know that.\n\n[[Fortunately none of that happened. You imagined it all. What really happened was this...|Start]] \n
David Whyld (dwhyld@gmail.com)