Zombienado Journals Ep. 1

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
The end of the world comes at the worst possible time for the hero of the story.

Submitted: January 30, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 30, 2019



Hello strangers if you're reading this you have found my journal, hopefully you found my body also. If your thinking “Wow that is a beautiful corpse”, keep looking it’s not me LOL. Seriously though if it's a beautiful corpse it's not me. It's probably that dickass Jimmy. I wouldn't put it past him to steal my girlfriend, then steal my journal also. If you find a skinny red headed kid that looks like a grown up version of a Chucky doll, probably me.

I am pretty sure this is the end of humanity, so the smart money is on nobody ever reading this journal. Some scientist believe there are extra terrestial civilizations living deep underwater on ice covered planets. Others believe that sun harvesting cyborgs are more likely. Basically, there is a very slim chance my journal may eventually be read by AI, extraterrestrials or a hybrid of both. I'm going to write this with robotic cephalopods as my target audience. Why would I do that? That's a good question. I will also be referring to my readers as OctopAI. Like Octopi and AI combined, trust me it's clever. I have a very good reason for doing this, I just don't feel like telling you.

This is not a funny story, I am not here to amuse you. I am just naturally funny. I know this because my ex girlfriend Rita always told me how funny I was. Obviously, that was before she and Jackass Jimmy played naked twister on a pile of my family photos.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, when the OctopAI or Squidbots eventually translate this journal into a complex system of chirps and sensuous tentacle contact, they will have questions.

Future Earth conquerors who find this journal will want to know everything about Earth, humans and in particular me Stewart Steven Little. I am the author of this journal and a very important person. It's my journal I'll be as important as I want. My parents Steven and Denise Little didn't think there was anything funny about naming their first born child Stewart. I was named for my Mother's father U.S. Army SFC Stewart S. Strongman. My parents couldn’t see anything funny about my name, but kids can be so cruel. Teens, adults, strippers, baristas, internet trolls, bosses, landlords are all also prone to cruelty. They never made cry though. I am a man! Men cry in the shower so there's no proof.

Your probably thinking, why am I talking about myself so much? Well it's my journal, if you don't like it make your own apocalypse journal. Maybe if you read more and interrupted less you wouldn't be on Earth looking for ways to save your own busted ass planet. I’m sorry, that was rude, just please don't tell me how to live my life. I am going to continue now if that's okay with you.

I have to get through this quick since humanity probably doesn't have much time left. I am Stewart S. Little and I am a human. Humans are fleshy land dwellers from planet Earth. Earth is where you found this journal. Humans are omnivores we eat plants and animals. Sometimes we eat plants wrapped in animals, it's kinda messed up if you think about it.

Something else that is kinda messed up is tornadoes. A tornado is when people from the Midwest are minding their business watching Duck Dynasty or whatever. Then it gets real windy and Mother Nature says “Give me that house bitch!”. She just takes it away. Same with cars, trees, fences etc. During a tornado, whatever M.N. wants M.N. takes. Look up Tornadoes on the internet it's crazy.

The internet is where you download porn and watch Worldstar. If you still don't understand what the internet is, look it up on the internet. It was invented by Al Gore. Al Gore is the guy who wasted all of his time keeping the Earth cool and comfortable for zombies.

Apocalypse spoiler we also have zombies now. Zombies are like humans who decided they want to eat plants, animals and humans, also they don't really care for plants or animals anymore. Zombies mostly just eat humans now. They are classified as homovores, I guess? Zombies have serious antisocial tendencies and should be avoided when possible.

When Zombies are being hurled 70 MPH at you by a tornado on steroids, avoiding them is tricky at best.

MPH means miles per hour, it's like kilometers per hour for countries that want to be obstinate.

I will come back to the zombies and tornadoes soon. First I need you to see the big picture and understand why the end of the world came at the worst possible time for me.

All good stories, start with a beautiful woman destroying some fools life. I will play the fool and the Rita will be the backstabbing hussie. Rita is currently my ex girlfriend, however at this point in the story she is currently my current girlfriend.

Fade to a flashback, exactly one week ago my apartment. Picture this Jimmy has Rita bent over my couch and he's going to town like a sailor on shore leave. Wait no, don't picture that! Let's flashback more. One week and one hour ago my apartment. Jimmy is busy trying to put ranch dressing in Rita's Hidden Valley. Son of a bitch! New flashback, one week and four hours ago. There is no way Jimmy was bringing an al dente noodle to Rita's spaghetti house for four hours. Right? Well I'll be damned. Whatever who cares. I was trying to show me and Rita when we were happy, nevermind now.

Okay flashback six days and twenty three hours ago. Picture this, I am halfway through my shift at Super-Duper-Mart. I am stocking shelves, working hard, trying to hide from the sheeple (helpless customers).

Side note zombies are currently a hot button issue, because of the eating faces and such, but braindead eating machines have been roaming America for as long as I can remember.

Back to story, I was busy doing work or doing busy work, I can't remember. My supervisor Frankie walks up. Frankie says “Go home your shift is over for today”. Frankie is a great person and the closest thing I have to a friend. The only problem with Frankie is that he has an actual medical condition that makes him think all confrontations must be solved via rap battle. My understanding is it's some form of a personality disorder. I start to tell Frankie that I am scheduled to work until four thirty and it's only barely past lunch. Frankie cuts me off “Corporate’s on my ass homie, dough they trippin bout, no more pay for you today, I already clocked you out, don't make me knock you out, then lock you out”. I get it, I'm not winning this argument no, need to get berated. “Have a good night Frankie” I say. I start walking away, removing my name tag and my vest. I can still hear Frankie rapping as I turn the corner of the aisle. I buy some tulips for Rita and begin driving home.

Time to talk about Jimmy, everyone always wants to talk about Jimmy. Jimmy is my co-worker at Super-Duper-Mart. Co-worker is definitely an overstatement. I do all the work and he gets all the credit. Jimmy is blonde, 6’2 and built like a Greek God. He spends all of his spare time at the gym and putting neon lights on his Honda Civic. I swear he works out and goes clubbing all night, then he goes to work to get some rest. Jimmy is what you would call a prankster. Jimmy pranked me hard by calling work and saying my Dad was in the hospital. There was the time he was drinking red bull off the shelf and putting the empty cans in my locker. He told the district manager to check my locker and I lost a promotion. Jimmy applied for a transfer to Istanbul in my name, he fucked my girlfriend, he soaked my winter coat in the employee sink and then put it in the freezer. Coldest drive home of my life. Jimmy put green hair dye in my shampoo at home. How he got into my apartment probably should have been a red flag. Remember hindsight is 20/20 friends. To be honest, Jimmy is a bully not a prankster. It’s okay, I just kissed ass and flew under the radar. Until now Jimmy and I had an unspoken agreement. I put up with Jimmy's bullshit and Jimmy doesn't beat me to a pulp. Not a great deal for me, but it was working.

One uneventful twenty minute drive later, I arrive home. I walk up the stairs to my apartment and open the door. In a fraction of a second everything good in my life is gone. Jimmy and Rita are having sex on the floor of my living room. The room starts spinning. I'm filled with adrenaline and simultaneously my legs go weak. I can't breathe, let alone speak. Jimmy can have any woman in the world and he has to take mine. The flowers fall from my hand as I fall against the door frame. Rita notices me, makes eye contact and says “5 o'clock already?”. I immediately puke, I can't help it. I slam the door as I stumble down the stairs. I need to get outside. I need air.

I make it outdoors to the stoop and wait, any second now Jimmy will be sneaking out the back and Rita will be here wrapped in a sheet beginning for my forgiveness. A moment of weakness I think, nobody is perfect, we’re strong, we’ll get through this. Forty five minutes later Jimmy walks out my front door. “Sorry you had to find out like this, nothing personal. I like you Pukie”. He bops me on the head with my own flowers. Jimmy walks to his car. I notice he's wearing my shirt, stretching it out. “That's my shirt” I say. “It used to be, bruh” Jimmy says as he gets in his car and drives off.

A couple of painful minutes later Rita comes out in a baggy tank top and sweatpants. Rita sits next to me on the stoop. “Why is he wearing my shirt?” I ask as anger fills me. “I'm wearing his, he needed to wear something”. Son of a bitch it's true, her shirt says suns out guns out. You gotta be kidding me. How long has this been going on? Rita answers my question with a question, “How long today?”. “No, how many times have you cheated on me?” I demand. My heart goes from anger back to sorrow. I begin sobbing a little and say “We were supposed to get married and start a family”. Rita laughs a little, “Oh wait, you're serious?” she says. “Oh, oh no honey, no we weren't. I am so sorry you thought that”. That's it! “Rita you need to move out”. She becomes perplexed “You want to live here, just you and Jimmy?” “No! Of course Jimmy won't be living here and neither will you!” I yell. “Well I'm on the lease and I gave Jimmy a key, so there isn't much you can do. Legally speaking your fucked” she says. I’ve heard enough I stomped to my car, and peeled out dramatically.

You know when you think of a perfect come back but it's already too late? This wasn't one of those times. Damned if I didn't say it anyways. I slammed on the brakes, reversed half a block and slammed on the brakes again. “Fucked huh, well just call me Rita then!”. A clearly confused Rita said “Call you then, when?”. “No, I'm saying call me Rita. I'm not saying call me Rita. Fuck this!”. I drove off. I drove all night, slept a couple hours by the trucks in a gas station. Then I went to work.

Jimmy didn't change at all at work, he wasn't aggressive, he wasn't remorseful, everything was business as usual for him. He ruined my life and it had zero effect on his at all. I spent all day thinking of creative ways to kill him poisons, improvised explosives, firearms, forklift accident. At work those were all possibilities. Jimmy was the closest he had ever been to death, up until that point at least and Jimmy had no idea. Ultimately I decided that this was mostly Rita's fault. I still hate Jimmy's guts though.

To make a long story short I had nowhere else to go. No family close, no close friends anywhere. Me, Rita da hoe and Jackass Jimmy all lived together for three horrible days. Jimmy was always naked. I started thinking he’s allergic to clothes. I don't think he wore a shirt once the entire time, but still never gave me back mine. Drinking milk out of the carton, not flushing the toilet, leaving dishes all over, using my loofah. I would have hated Jimmy even if he hadn't nailed my girlfriend. But he did do that and he continued to. I slept on the couch and was never there unless I had to be.

On the fourth day I woke up early and Rita was in the living room staring at me. “What's going on?” I ask. “I've got two questions Stewie”. Rita starts “Me and Jimmy have been talking, we decided it's best that you move out”. I laughed a little. Why wouldn't we be having this conversation? “Not really a question but okay I'll move out” I say. “You better get a job princess. I'm not gonna pay your bills anymore and I doubt Jersey Shore Jimmy is going to be a great provider” I said mockingly. “What’s the second question?” I ask. Rita looks disappointed and says “I was going to ask you to keep paying rent but you already said no because your selfish”. LMFAO. I went to work and got a hotel that night. The plan was to get a more permanent place then get the rest of my stuff later.

I drove to work the next day. The weather was terrible. It was raining cats and dogs. That's a figure of speech, no sentient beings were falling from the sky yet. I could barely see anything. Scanning through the stations they were all playing some form of a severe weather warning for my area. Despite being homeless and the weather I was in a good mood. The situation with Jimmy and Rita was finally over. It hurt still but like the old saying goes, you can take the hoe out the hood, but you can't make her stop giving Jimmy hummers. I’m excited to start over. On my way in Frankie was mopping puddles upfront, “How's life friend?” I ask. “Good vato, weather is crazy, may have to shut this biatch down. Clock in then come drive this mop” he says. “Sure thing”.

I went to the employee break area and you will never, ever guess who was filling out her new hire paperwork. It was Rita. Fuddlenut, fish stick eating, shut the front door Rita! Is this a bad joke, I wonder. “What are you doing” I shout. “Paperwork, duh". “You can't work here, you can't invade my space, this is all I have left”. “You said to get a job, where did you think I would go? I think I really upset her because she started yelling “Safe space, safe space, I need my safe space, microagressions, help, help”. I ran like away fast! Nobody needs that noise, literally and figuratively.

I went back up front, Frankie’s back was towards me. He must have heard me coming. Before I even speak he turned and said “I made a decision, no room for division or revision don't get in my way or there will be a collision” then he dropped the mop like a mic and stood with his arms spread. “My turn I don't know why is happening, I think I will cry, eat some pie, hopefully crash my car and die”. “Not bad homie, I know what they did to you Stewart”. “Check this out.” “Those two gonna pay, gonna give them the treatment every day, embarrass them in every way, then fire them both on Christmas day, what do you say?”. Damn Frankie really had my back. Our almost heartfelt moment was interrupted by air raid sirens blaring.

I ran to the customer service desk and used the P.A. to make an announcement. “Everyone stay calm, our men's restroom is a shelter, please move to the men's restroom for safety”. Frankie grabbed the microphone and said “In restroom no unpaid merchandise, we've got observant eyes and law enforcement ties. Shoplifters go downtown, we prosecute, we don't clown around”. I took the microphone back and repeated my original instructions slowly and clearly.

I walked in front of the automatic doors so they would open. I wanted to see how bad it was outside. It was dark, rainy and really loud. I was only there for a second before someone hit the concrete right outside the doors, they bounced, skipped and scraped as momentum carried them crashing into the end cap of the first aisle. The cereal pyramid toppled, leaving them buried in Cheerios. The ground was covered in bloody skid marks. Before I could even say “what the actual fuck”, two more bodies impacted. The first hit the picture window making a spider web of cracks, then it slid down like bird with a broken neck. The second hit the same window and crashed right through. That was the strangest thing I had ever seen, until all three bodies stood and started shambling.

© Copyright 2020 Jordan Tockey. All rights reserved.

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