Thursday, October 23, 2014

Blogvengers Part Four, Zombies Still On Tour!

Chapter 4
Yours, Mine and Ours
Zombies With Powers

     The sun rose on a new day and all actually looked right as Betsy stepped out enjoying her stone statue display. She missed her fifty cats but she was glad she did not have to arm herself with barbed wire bats. She swept the deck and made sure to get every speck. Betsy smiled as a zombie came out of her house. It was actually as quiet as a mouse.
     "Take your friends and clean the yard, mow the grass and trim the trees." Betsy commanded like a dictator of some sort. She seemed to have a regular zombie court.
     The zombies gave a moan and listened at the tone. Betsy seemed to give off a smell that reminded them of Hell. When any zombie came near her the lines begin to blur. They all followed her commands and demands.
     Betsy saw a familiar group hobbling down the street. The zombies all turned to them smelling fresh meat. She spotted Hank first just marching along, whistling his number one song. It reminded Alex he had no guitar and could no longer become a rock star. Brian and Mary lead the rest of the dVerse crew. They all stopped in awe as Betsy and her pet zombies came into view.
     "I am number one!  But that is just strange." Hank was ready to fight as he kept every zombie in sight.
     "Brian, your twin has gone off the deep end." Mary whispered and began to back away, hoping Betsy was not crazy and wanted to cause them dismay.
     "Rotten Creepers! Now there is a name for a good band." Alex was still whining while the zombies dreamed about nothing but dining.
     Betsy waved her hand and her zombie pets went back to tending her land. Brian gawked and took it all in. He saw what she was doing and did not think it a sin.
     "So you are here too? Just another thing we have in common." Brian opened her gate and walked in tempting fate.
     "Repoing cars would have been a lot easier with them around, huh?" Betsy joked and invited everyone in. They all thought she stunk worse than a drunk covered in gin.
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     "So if I pray to you oh godly one, will the zombie nuns go away?" Cassie licked her paw as the zombie nuns beat on the door making their hands even more raw.
     "Shut up, fleabag. Drazin has a plan." Drazin smirked and then left the room. He had a look that said he was going to cause them doom.
     "Are we just going to let him go run to and fro?"
     "Orlin you know you don't always have to rhyme, right?"
     "Sorry, but I have to or I may piss off the crew."
     Pat shook his head and leaned back in his chair. The group all heard Drazin give out a loud swear. Orlin whacked the monitor and they all laughed at him. He stubbed his toe and there was nothing else too grim. They followed him on the security feed and began to catch on to his plan as it came to seed.
     "Drazin hates damn zombies, but zombies nuns. Drazin guesses with rotting flesh they sure are holy now." Drazin kept talking to himself as he picked some things off a shelf.
     Drazin marched up some stairs and began putting things in pairs. He mixed and matched and before long everything was batched. He stood on top of the roof of the mall and gave one more grunt to all. Then he lit his creation and let it go to his elation.
     "Oh that is just nasty." Pat curled up his nose and his toes.
     Zombie nun brain splatted on the security camera feed. Drazin's bomb sure did the deed. Zombie nun parts flew everywhere. There was not even enough left to make a matching pair.
     "I guess the godly one answers prayers after all."
     "But I have to tell, after that, he may end up in Hell."
     Pat turned away from the screen as the cats licked themselves clean. Drazin marched back into the room and sat down enjoying his big boom.
     "Now that Drazin took care of that, you fleabags can take care of the rest."
     "Oh good job Drazin. Your mind really is as small as a raisin."
     Orlin looked out over the balcony window and seemed to be enjoying the show. Adam was caught in the act. He became zombie lunch for his final fact. Drazin had blown the door open too. Now zombies were entering the mall two by two.
     "Good going, godly mook."
     Cassie and Pat looked for a way to scat. The bottom half of the mall was filled to the brim. Things really did look grim. Their only chance was to go to the roof after Drazin's big goof. The group took off for it, avoiding the zombies and their spit. They slammed the door shut behind them and Pat brushed off a little zombie flem.
     "Pat, what are you doing?" Cassie looked on, quite confused, while Orlin was rather amused.
     Pat had pushed Drazin aside and opened the door, which looked like it was going to come off with each zombie roar. The zombies filed out one by one and as they did, they were done. Pat shot light beams from his hand and turned each zombie to grains of undead looking sand. They melted and piled up into a hill, eventually blocking the door from any more zombies as they got their fill.
     "Damn, fleabags. Drazin is really impressed with your human. When he doesn't have the voices in his head he can do a lot."
     Pat fell to one knee and smiled at Orlin and Cassie. He looked up at Drazin who finally got a clue as Pat started to go from one to two right in his view.
     "Drazin knew it. It figures you had to get that crazy woman to do all the work. Drazin takes back what Drazin said about your human, fleabags." Drazin marched to the side of the roof while the spirit of Truedessa lingered above the ground and then went, poof.
     "She's getting closer to taking form, then crazy Pat will once again be the norm." Orlin trotted off to the edge and one by one the group stood at the ledge.
     "So now what?"
     "What are you asking Drazin for, fleabag?"
     "You did cause this, you godly mook."
     Drazin and Cassie bickered for a while and then the four of them stared at something far more vile. It was creeping slowly up the street and they knew this zombie was going to be tough to beat.
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     Optimistic Existentialist and Beate trotted hand and hand across the zombie land. They noticed the beauty in the guts sprawled on the outside of huts. They awed at some zombie guts in the shape of a heart outside of an old run down corner mart. The pair walked in, taking it as a sign, cheery about there being no line.
     "Why would people waste all of this stuff?" Optimistic asked as he went through the trash, thinking they could have quite the bash.
     "Because they don't see the beauty in it like you." Beate rubbed his back and readied a kissing attack.
     "What do we have here?" A big buffoon pranced on in, with a huge R on his t-shirt he thought no one could do him in.
     The pair eyed his bat, not finding any beauty in that. The large guy was rather round as he pranced about trying to be profound. Optimistic Existentialist shielded Beate behind him, sensing things were going to get grim. He searched for a weapon in the rubble below and found something that made the big R t-shirt wearing buffoon shout, "Oh no!"
     "See, there is beauty in everything. Except maybe him." Beate grabbed the Superman t-shirt from him and threw it on top of the buffoon on a whim.
     "No! R is the strength, not S. S...it...can't be....an S...noooo!"
     The R t-shirt wearing buffoon cried like a little girl while the pair took off in a whirl. They did not know how long it would last and wanted to make him a thing of the past. They continued hand and hand down the street, spying a lemonade stand in the distance and wanting to beat the heat.
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     Drazin and Pat's jaws were wide open and down to the ground as the super powered zombie left huge foot prints in the ground. It was the size of the jolly green giant and looked rather defiant. It was cement through and through. The thing was like a moving, drooling statue. It shook the land as it came near. It sure looked like something to fear.
     "Fleabags, does that super powered woman inside you human's head have a way out of this?"
     "She's out of juice and has to recharge. We get to deal with this bad Pokemon rip off thing ourselves." Pat picked his jaw up off the floor and knew this was going to be a chore.
     "As long as we don't miss let's kill it with piss."
     "Drazin thinks the fleabag has gone insane."
     "For once I agree with the godly mook." Cassie gave Orlin a strange look and watched as he started to scale down the wall like a crook.
     Orlin began trotting down the road looking as if he was in full on "I've got to pee mode" and  jumped onto the super powered cement zombie's toes. He then took a leak causing the zombie woes. It went right through, melting the zombies feet, which impressed the rest of the crew.
     "Drazin takes it back, the fleabag is good for something after all." Drazin laughed and everyone watched as the zombie fell to the ground, making a rather large sound.
     "I guess it's my turn." Cassie licked herself once again and jumped down leaving the two men.
     "Drazin can't believe this."
     "Yeah, you can beat cement zombies with cat piss. Who knew."
     Pat and Drazin stood above amused as the zombie was rather confused. Cassie took a leak on his other foot rather girlie like and no longer could the zombie hike. He lied on the ground just flailing around.
     "Looks like it is time Drazin...."
     "Oh he didn't."
     The two curled up their nose, it was bad enough with the toes, but Orlin moved up carefully to the zombies neck and soon the zombie was one big wreck. Orlin pissed on his neck and it went right through. The super powered cement zombie's head fell off and no longer could he spew.
     "That's an awful way to go, even for a zombie."
     "Beheading by cat piss, Drazin has truly seen it all."
     Cassie and Orlin both circled around the dead zombie's head, quite proud of themselves for causing the zombie dread. Pat and Drazin carefully climbed down from the rooftop, making it about half way and then just letting themselves drop.
     "Aren't you glad the cat had to go right on that zombie's toe?" Orlin pranced at Pat's feet and as Pat brushed him he took a seat.
     "It was very umm creative of you. I guess I will rhyme too."
     "Drazin isn't rhyming, but good job, fleabags."
     Cassie licked herself clean and Orlin stopped making a scene. The group scampered away before the zombies left inside the mall came their way. They had full stomachs and were relieved, as they left the super powered cement zombie way more than peeved.
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     "And that makes eighty five percent of the world's bloggers dead. These cockroaches will soon no longer be a thorn in my side." Dr. Zoggif gloated until there was a knock at his door and then came another knock encore.
     "Alan, what are you doing in there? You are going to run the electricity bill through the roof."
     "Mom, go play bingo and leave me alone. I told you not to invade my space."
     "When you get a job and pay some bills I'll leave you alone. Now open this damn door."
     Dr. Zoggif sighed and sucked back some pride. He walked over and open the door a crack, listening to his mother's rant attack.
     "When are you going to get work? Where is that nice girl you had in here? Why don't you ever go outside?"
     "When my master plan is through, I'll never have to worry about any of that."
     "Hurry up with your master plan or you'll be out on the street."
     His mother stomped up the stairs and Dr. Zoggif gave her some evil glares. He then locked the door once again and retired back to the chair in his den. He saw eighty six percent of bloggers were now dead and began dreaming of care free days at club med.

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Betsy getting zombies to clean? That about fits with her scene. Bloggers everywhere are biting the dust. Who can you really trust? We shall see what comes to pass as the adventures continue from my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Irish Are Here! Wait, Just One I Fear!

So as we continue to near 100,000 comments at my lair out of the woodwork comes Irish Air. I hear her airline is really dead. That has to fill her full of dread.

It's Irish Air and her miniature affair,
Along with planting a bazillion gardens at her lair.
High on paint and high on manure,
Do they have a certain allure?

From Canada he came,
cross borders he slipped,
into my garden, the Cat he did trip,
then raising his tail high in the air
his yowls filled the night
with quiet despair.


So there are two cats from Canada you say?
Aren't you the popular one at your bay.
Maybe the yowling is a hint of some sort,
That you should watch the viking fat chewing sport.

There's only one Cat says Anne of Eire
that's as fetid and foul as you I swear,
for the scat left behind was moldy as slime
and the odour so dank it befouled the air.


Sounds like you are in heaven,
You should find another seven.
Then you'd never want to leave,
The air so great all day you'd hack and heave.

My spies see the things that you do
even watch when you go to the loo
your ass is so hairy
it's really quite scary.


So I guess you went to Walmart,
Found a few ass cracks while pushing a cart,
And asked them to spy on the cat.
Cheap rates, or something like that?

The only way
to get them there
was to fly cheap flights
on O'Leary Air.


Cheap flights you say?
They charge to take a leak over the bay.
I guess you waved that fee.
Any famous last words from thee?

Don't forget your boarding pass
for that, we'll charge you out the ass
beds and blow jobs those are free
but we charge for the air that you breathe
so if you want to go from here to there
fly with us at O'Leary Air.


I guess the mile high club is as easy as can be to join when you fly with her airline across the sea. Although judging by the flight crew, you might want to forgo that and hide in the loo. That would be far less eww from what I hear. Or maybe just drink a ton of beer. Now Irish Air is through with her convo pass. Almost as bad as an old one eye visiting my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Round Twenty Seven And Still As Crazy As Round Eleven!

Here we are once more, still on a run at my shore. The search engines nuts just keep showing up. They come to my place like a bone calls to a pup.

"can humans be retromingency"

Ummm unless they came out the wrong way, I'll go with no at my bay.

"master deen.gocker"

The Gawker has fans that can't spell. At least he has fans, so what the hell.

"bus blow jobs"

Do I even want to know? I vote, hell no!

"some ride, some walk and some talk"

Some eat, some spit, some chew. See, I can do it too!

"his naked clones"

Sounds like they are looking for the ninja wannabe. Alex, did you go all nude-y?

"Free breast milk at my door"

That is service I suppose. Do they come and strike a pose?

"Matter is only what people believe"

Getting all cryptic at my feed. Or making me think, indeed.

"Starlight, star bright, can my daddy fight"

Where the heck did that come from? Maybe if daddy gets in some rum?

"Reminders to go play hacky sack"

Maybe a post it note would be a good thing to get your vote?

"The mummy bumping uglies with Fraser"

George of the Jungle and the Mummy in a tree? Now that is scary.

"1000 ways to make you rich."

I'll take one to scratch that itch. Come on, give me the best pitch.

"My toe is talking to me."

Chop the sucker off, quick! A talking toe can be a really prick.

"cars break and fail to run."

My, aren't you the insightful one. I bet you are the brains of the family under your sun.

"Is snacking on snails good for you?"

How should I know? Does this look like the rhyming bird show?

And now we have the winner of this round. It seems they toned the swearing and gas search down at my mound. Instead they now have the strange and new, at least that is mostly true.

"Chew fat on women and farting, big tun on"

That one is all Anne's fault bringing up the viking woman at my vault. But hmmm somehow I think that is a bit too kinky. Maybe they should stick to a slinky? The winner can't even spell with this pass, but it could not be passed up by my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.