Mother, Father, let me begin our impromptu meeting by declaring shame on you both. That’s right, hang your heads in shame. How can you have gone this long without acknowledging the number one threat to our society- Zombies? That’s right: zombies. Not the kind of corporate birdbrains who plop themselves in a cubicle and rot in front of a computer day after day. No, I’m talking about the real thing- the kind of monster that makes ramen out of your intestines.
You’re probably wondering why I’m wearing a fish bowl on my head and garbage bags on my hands. Unfortunately, it is unknown whether the zombie virus is airborne. As we speak, America’s top scientists are working on the cure for this disease. Take it from the kid who's seen every movie on the subject, read every related article, and checked and updated all the facts on Wikipedia- we shouldn't be seeing results any time soon. Fortunately for us common folk, there is one known cure- taking a gun and shooting the d*mn thing in the head. Until an actual cure is discovered or I get my gun license, I’ve provided you with your own set of bags and fishbowls. You can thank me later.
Oh, don’t give me that look. If you want to succumb to this deadly virus that has already taken so many human lives, so be it. Just know that when zombie scum overrun the entire freaking planet and you two are the only humans left on the surface world, I’m not letting you into my impenetrable zombie-proof fortress. That’s right. I have a g*dd*mn fortress. Meeting adjourned. I'll see you at dinner.
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