• Chapter One: Lt Bozbozenboz's Civilians vs. Zombies

'Ok, ok, ok,' the Lt gesticulated in a pacifying manner to calm down his upset unit.

Calling the confused and hopeless handful in front of him a unit was quite a stretch, but if there was one thing the experienced veteran never had had the slightest doubt about, it was the fact that it was the leader's responsibility, the leader's duty, no, no, no, wait, the leader's goddamn strength and fucking will power (this bizarre situation surely called for some obscenities) that transformed any kind of bunch of people into a ferocious, determinedly death-defying (in the past, Bozbozenboz' troops had laughed in the face of death, laughed not like an imbecile madman, if that's what you're thinking, but laughed like a potent steeled Greek god of war - Was that Ares or Mars? He would have to ask Alexv, that bookworm. He surely could have used a Mars bar. Candy* always helped the Lt think in grim situations like these - confident of his victory; hell, sometimes they had even spat, that's right, OUTRIGHT SPAT in the face of Death, just because they could and wanted, whatcha gonna do about that, Death?)... the Lt lost his track of thought for a second. Where was he? Ah, right: A ferocious, determinedly death-defying, enemy-eliminating... What's a good noun here? A combat... a combat... a COMBAT CLAN! That was it. A ferocious, determinedly death-defying, enemy-eliminating combat clan, each member of which acting like the extremity of one unified body, knowing exactly its place, ability and function.

Fucking genius, Lt Bozbozenboz!, the Lt thought to himself. He'd have to write that down, quick, quick, he would have to put that into his online blog.

'Um, Boz?!' Heather, who had a joke or an insult, or sometimes a combination of them, at her disposal at all times, pulled the leader out of his poetic thoughts. 'Could you fucking say something? You've been staring into the off with that vacant look of yours for twenty minutes now.'

'Is it time for one of your pills?' Cephallus asked helpfully. He was a gentle, well-meaning individual. Along with Alexv, quite out of place among this group of loud-mouthed show-offs.

The Lt snapped out of it. 'No, no, it is not time for one of my pills, you sissies! It is high time we do something about this zombie threat outside!' He pointed at the barricaded door of the hotel they had sought refuge in.

'Well, yeah. Hours ago I suggested that we bomb the fuck out of them! How about that?!' Auntie Abbz, Auntie for short, or Abbz for even shorter, yelled.

Bozbozenboz generally valued her wickedness, especially at night, but as a consequence of this trait, she was completely lacking the strategic thinking that was so vital during times like these. He had it, running through his veins. (More fine phrasing for the online blog.)

'My dearest Abbz, while I'm not dismissing that idea per se, as I've told you repeatedly over the last few hours, right now, at this instant, it is not an option. We don't know how many there are, we don't know where they all are, we don't know if there are any other humans out there, we don't know if our ammunition would suffice should we opt for an aggressive strategy like that... And on top of it all, we don't even know what we are dealing with here really! In short, with all due respect, what I think about this plan is:' here the Lt. blew a raspberry. Some people are just born orators, what can you say?

Just when Auntie was about to to give that cheeky punk a juicy bit of her mind, Andy spoke up. 'Actually, we know exactly what we are dealing with here. At least I do. Zombies, the living dead, empty shells powered by the one and only instinct those former humans have left: to devour the living. Devoid of any needs - they eat the living not to survive but because it is the only thought that their brains, corrupted by the virus, allow them to have - with no feelings and no memories of their former lives, they are like machines, programmed to kill, kill, KILL!'

Andy paused for emphasis. The others, who had formed a crescent around him, thereby having partly turned away from Bozbozenboz (!!!), were hanging on his lips, some of them shuddering as they listened to the gruesome truth about their enemies.

The Lt did not shudder, of course. He did have strong feelings at the moment, but not of fear (he had a history of also spitting in the face of Death's little brother, Fear). Who did this amateur think he was?! The Lt's intestines were boiling. Certainly, a diet consisting mostly of BK foods was perhaps not the best option for bis body, but he was positive that the current heat in his stomach was the result of the other man's acting the big shot in front of HIS unit.

'But, of course, there are means to dispatch them,' Andy, zombie expert and no less a natural rhetorician than the current (self-proclaimed) leader of their group, continued dishing out the straight facts. 'Destroying the zombie's brain does the trick. Decapitation may be reasonable in certain circumstances, for instance to save ammo, but it doesnt kill the zombie - just separates its head, jaws still working and all, from the body, and renders the specimen less of a threat in most cases. Also, severing off their body parts is not-'

'Thank you, Andy,' Bozbozenboz rightfully took the floor. Stupid kid was turning his men (and men with boobs) into even bigger chickens than they already were.

'My pleasure, Boz,' Andy lied. Stupid geezer was undermining his authority as one of the top-notch specialists on the living dead (and lentil soup) of the nation - perhaps of the entire world! This was not just some battle against equals that Bozbozenboz may or may not (Andy had a suspicion that most of the Lt's experience stemmed from online fights on the World of Warcraft server rather than the real world) have been familiar with.

''Lt' seems to be more appropriate in the light of recent events,' the Lt corrected his adversary's (keep a close eye on him, Lt!) form of address. Everyone had to accept his complete and unquestionable authority in this situation. After all, it was on him to turn these clueless civilians into dangerous warriors who'd send the zombies back to hell with the wink of an eye. Feelings or no feelings, those rotting ragbags would curse the day they had decided not to die in the first place at the sight of Lt Bozbozenboz' terrifying horde of heroes. The Lt's eyes fell on Shazz' pink top with the light blue unicorn print, sequins adorning the magical horse's horn. Ah well, figuratively speaking terrifying.

After he had shut up Curly, Rhiwena and Jellico, all of who insisted Andy continue his little lecture on zombie traits and methods of disposing of the undead, he managed to have all of his men (and men without penises) share with everyone which abilities and skills that might prove useful in their precarious circumstances each possessed. Concluding that they could quite stand a chance against the living dead, Bozbozenboz asked Shazz, who, based on her expertise with pen, pencil, paint brush, etc, had immediately been appointed his secretary, to read out her notes (all previously dictated by the Lt Himself):

'Lt Bozbozenboz: Military Leader, Jack of all Trades and also Master of Them All,

                             Chief of the Attack Battalion (AB), Head of Strategy, Most

                             Handsome**

Andy: zombie expert, co-strategist alongside the Lt, member of the AB

Shazz: secretary, map drawer, member of the Base & Defense Team (BDT)

Abbz: member of the AB, preferred weapon: bow and arrows,*** responsible for the

          general morale of the unit

Cephallus: member of the AB, member of the Nourishment Division (ND)

Alexv:  walking encyclopedia, responsible for communication with

            outer world, member of the BDT

Rhiwena: member of the ND, member of the BDT, nurse

Heather: member of the AB, responsible for entertainment, responsible for keeping

               track of stock

Jellico: member of the Scout Troupe (ST), member of the AB

Curly: member of the ST, member of the BDT

Further areas of responsibility may be added as necessary,

changes of current functions may occur if necessary.'

Bozbozenboz, nodding (self-)contently, thanked Shazz. The girl furrowed her brow, 'I didn't mean to appear disloyal when acting as 'The Chief Scribbler' and carrying out 'officially important business', but I fail to see how 'Most Handsome' is relevant here.'

'Wow, you gotta tell me how you do those quotation marks in spoken English without using your hands,' Curly burst out in utter linguistic admiration.

'This isn't the time for language classes for foreigners!' the Lt pointed out resolutely. Then he whipped around to the brave Canadian. 'And especially not by foreigners,' he added - because he had just thought of that, and it fit, so there you are. He went on to address Shazz' remark, 'As for your comment, a comment that, by the way, only shows that you have no battle experience whatsoever... Well, ah... if you had any battle experience you'd know how it is relevant.'

'Do we have time for language classes for non-foreigners?' Curly asked, perhaps innocently, but nonetheless quite stupidly.

Before the Lt could go military on the not-even-German one's ass, Ceph stepped in. (Alexv would have, too, but he rather enjoyed watching pointless fights from a lurking-in-the-shadows position. That was the whole point of his hanging out on Fall Out Boy fan forums regularly. Or so he claimed.) 'Nevermind them, Lt Bozbozenboz,' Ceph said with a calm voice. 'No one's questioning your expertise here.'

'Word, Bozzle, my bizzle,' Heather agreed. 'Um, Lt Bozzlebizzlebub, sir.'

'Bozzlebub!' Auntie squealed with the delight of a true atheist.

THROBBING, incessant throbbing in the Lt's temples.

'How about we let the Lt brief us on our chores as members of the AB, STD and all those other fractions?' Ceph hadn't given up on restoring peace.

'You are a good man, Private Cephallus,' the Lt sighed. (His pat on Ceph's back drowned out Rhi, Andy and Jellico's simultaneous coughing of 'kiss-ass.') And so Bozbozenboz explained the functions and duties and all that other army bullshit that I, personally have no clue about nor interest in, to his unit.

And then, because it's the end of the chapter and we need a cliffhanger, an apparitional figure appeared in the darkened (but of course!) hallway on the left, accompanied by the shuffling of its feet dragging along the floor. All heads turned towards the sound. Pupils widened, jaws dropped. Hair stood on end (more than usually, I mean) and curled in horror (...). (Alexv and Ceph felt a bit envious.)

'It's one of them!' Rhi yelled. 'A zombieeeeeee!'

'No shit,' Auntie grunted.

The creature had edged closer and, as it passed a window on its way towards the Lt and the others, with arms outstretched and knees that hardly bent as it shimmied forward, the sun light allowed them to make out its truly grotesque features; most of all: the hollow and cold eyes.

'Oh, geez,' sighed Alexv, who had a point.

_____________________

* Both the stripper called Candy who worked opposite the vacuum cleaner repair/book shop of his choice and actual candy candy.

** The Lt had insisted on the capital letters as a sign of authority and grandeur. Also, Shazz' skilled hand turned them into little calligraphic masterpieces, worthy of Bozbozenboz.