My name’s Ray, I'm dead and I am what you guys would call “undead,” but I don't want you thinking that’s all I am. I understand that you’re scared of me. I really do. I’m dead, I do look really bad and, I know, I smell even worse, but it's not my fault. If I had my way I wouldn't be a zombie at all, but it seems this is what fate had this in store for me.
I wasn't much cop at living, always falling over and hurting myself. Socially awkward was how my shrink used to describe me so I ate her first. Then I turned on my family. You must understand, though, that I didn't mean to. I had no idea I was a vegetarian zombie or that one of those even existed. It was all flesh, flesh and yet more flesh until one day I realised that Quorn mince was actually amazing. So versatile and so tasty.
When I brought this discovery to the rest of my undead brethren they turned their noses up at me, or at least the ones with their noses still intact did. So I found myself shunned. It's a good job that we don't have feelings or emotions or I would have been well on the road to a downward spiral. That’s what my shrink said before I killed her. It's also good that I don’t suffer from loneliness. We are solitary predators, you see.
The devil sent us up not to be friends or companions, but the worst of all possible enemies. The trouble is I seem to have forgotten that along the way. You see I spend my days doing things contrary to the strict zombie regime. I've chosen to think outside the coffin. I don't besiege the living in their homes, run riot in their towns or cities and I certainly don't eat their flesh. Instead I spend my time whittling spoons, recycling and helping old ladies and school children across the road.
They’ve got a name for me. I'm the Lollipop Zombie. I don't have a uniform or a lollipop, but I do have a purpose. My job is to ensure they get across the road without getting run over or eaten. This is what I was meant to do. You humans think I'm weird. What am I doing helping the aged across the road? The dead don't do that. Re-education is what is needed. Not all zombies are out to get you.
Admittedly I haven't come across any others like me and I don't feel hope, but we can't all be the same, can we?
I wasn't much cop at living, always falling over and hurting myself. Socially awkward was how my shrink used to describe me so I ate her first. Then I turned on my family. You must understand, though, that I didn't mean to. I had no idea I was a vegetarian zombie or that one of those even existed. It was all flesh, flesh and yet more flesh until one day I realised that Quorn mince was actually amazing. So versatile and so tasty.
When I brought this discovery to the rest of my undead brethren they turned their noses up at me, or at least the ones with their noses still intact did. So I found myself shunned. It's a good job that we don't have feelings or emotions or I would have been well on the road to a downward spiral. That’s what my shrink said before I killed her. It's also good that I don’t suffer from loneliness. We are solitary predators, you see.
The devil sent us up not to be friends or companions, but the worst of all possible enemies. The trouble is I seem to have forgotten that along the way. You see I spend my days doing things contrary to the strict zombie regime. I've chosen to think outside the coffin. I don't besiege the living in their homes, run riot in their towns or cities and I certainly don't eat their flesh. Instead I spend my time whittling spoons, recycling and helping old ladies and school children across the road.
They’ve got a name for me. I'm the Lollipop Zombie. I don't have a uniform or a lollipop, but I do have a purpose. My job is to ensure they get across the road without getting run over or eaten. This is what I was meant to do. You humans think I'm weird. What am I doing helping the aged across the road? The dead don't do that. Re-education is what is needed. Not all zombies are out to get you.
Admittedly I haven't come across any others like me and I don't feel hope, but we can't all be the same, can we?
