Bloodier Than A Tampon

TWO: Bono

Captain wrecked the zombie with a blender right when I was about to knock its head out of the park. The jagged pieces of glass were being spun really fast, because it used to be a blender, and they penetrated the thing’s head and kind of spun its brain around before sending it flying out in all directions. Now, this might have been the weed, but when the zombie’s head exploded, its brains flew out, in, like, slow motion or some shit like that. You’d think that would give me time to react and protect my head from the projectile-zombie-brains, but no, I just stood there screaming “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, CAP? HOLY SHIT ITS BRAINS ARE GONNA GET IN MY MOUTH WHAT THE FUCK – “ and then its brains did hit my face, but none of them got in my mouth, thank god. That shit would have tasted nasty, plus it probably could have infected me or whatever. But it would have tasted really, really nasty.

“Shit, dude, what the fuck is going on right now?” Captain asked, clutching his blender-knife to his chest and looking around frantically with his bloodshot eyes.

“Dude, shit, there’s zombies running around, obviously.” I said, running back down into the basement. I tossed the wiffle bat onto the couch and pulled one of our giant bags of weed out from under the couch, got some papers and started rolling a joint.

“Are you seriously going to smoke a joint right now, Bono? When there’s fucking zombies running around?” He shouted at me, waving his blender thing in my direction.

“Don’t point that fuckin’ thing at me, dude,” I said, lighting the joint and taking a puff. “Dude, this is good shit. Here.” I said, pulling it out of my mouth and offering it to him.

“Dude, really? Fuck it, fine,” He said, and grabbed the joint, taking a few hits. “Damn, that is good stuff.” He took a seat on the couch and continued to smoke it, so I rolled a new one.

“Okay, Cap, what are we gonna do about this?” I asked. “Y’know, the whole zombie thing.”

“Okay, well, we should probably take inventory of what we have, right?” He said, and we both looked at each other. “I’ll look around for weapons, you gather up all the necessities and sort them on the kitchen table.”

About forty five minutes later – well, that’s what it seemed like, but I was pretty high – he came downstairs with a bag full of assorted household objects that double as weapons, including but not limited to: A guitar, a broomstick, a few bottles, and a desk lamp.

He tossed the bag on the ground in front of the table and looked at what I had gathered. “What the actual fuck?” He asked.

“There’s still a little bit in the basement, but I can go back and get it if you-“ I start, but he cut me off.

“Dude, we could be stuck here for months and you’re worried about the dope? We need food and shit, man!”

“Wait, wait, since when is hesh not important? I’m pretty sure it’s gonna get us through this. Plus, I did get food! I got these!” I said, holding up two bags of Doritos. “These are actually sounding really good right now, so you need to chill.” He sighed, and I opened the cupboards to look for some “real food.”

“Alright, so, I found some broomsticks and shit, some bottles, a lamp –“

“The fuck did you get the lamp for?”

“It’s heavy and it’s made out of metal. Oh, and I found a fuck ton of nerf guns up in the attic.” Before I could open my mouth to yell at him about finding nerf guns to use against zombies, he pulled out a handgun. “I found this, too. So yeah.”

“I’m conflicted on thinking you’re stupid for getting nerf guns to kill zombies and thinking how awesome it would be to shoot at zombies with nerf guns.” I said, pulling food out of the cabinets and throwing it on the table. “Okay, so we’ve got a box and a half of cereal, two bags of Doritos, some chex mix, a bag of chicken fingers, a frozen pizza, and some waffles.”

“I knew we should have gone to the store, dude.” Cap said, examining the pile of food.

“I don’t know about you but that sounds like a balanced diet to me,” I said, opening one of the bags of Doritos and taking a handful. I offered it to Cap, and he took a few. “Shit, I’m hungry, dude.” I said, pouring some of the chips straight out of the bag and into my mouth.

That’s when we heard more of the moans. “Fuck!” We screamed in unison, grabbing whatever was closest to us. I was wielding the broomstick and Captain had the pistol stuck in his pocket and a bottle in his hand. He smashed the end on the table, which looked really badass, and faced the pack of zombies that was shambling through the doorway.

I charged at one of them with the broomstick and smashed him over the head, which didn’t do much. I kept whacking that motherfucker until the broomstick snapped, at which point I panicked and tripped over a bag of hesh that I left on the ground. I crawled back away from the zombies while Captain went ham with his bottle – he had to have taken down two of them before one knocked his arm and made him drop the bottle. He tripped over something too, and hit his head on the fridge.

“Captain?” I yelled out, crawling back and running into the weapon bag. “Captain? Cap, talk to me!” I reached into the bag, pulled out the first thing I grabbed, stood up and swung. The zombie’s head made a heavy clunk when it collided with… the lamp. “The fucking lamp?” I shouted, hitting the zombie again. “Fuck this fucking lamp!” I crushed its head in, and another one grabbed my arm from behind. I tried to push it back, but it knocked me on the ground and I couldn’t do shit.

Now, I was still really high at this point, but it seemed like that zombie had me pinned for a really long time. I thought I was done for, too. He was just about to bite into my neck when I saw one of Cap's fucking nerf guns on the floor. Now, at this point you need to remember I was really, really  high, so I grabbed the fucking thing and put it against the zombie's head and pulled the trigger, and there was a really loud bang and its head kind of collapsed on itself. I pushed it off of me and threw the nerf gun on the floor, and I was freaking out because since when are nerf guns supposed to do that? And that's when I turned and saw Captain aiming the handgun at where the zombie was with his back against the fridge.

“Shit, dude,” He said, tossing the gun to the side and standing up. That was when I ran at him and fucking hugged him like I’ve never hugged someone before.

“You saved my life, man,” I said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, now we need to board that fucking door up.” He said, grabbing the gun and running down into the basement.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there,” I said, grabbing a bag of weed and rolling another joint. If I could die at any moment, that meant I had to be high at any moment, because who wants to die when they’re not high?

[Sup, mofos? It's Justin, I'm the one who writes for Bono. I'm really stoked for this story, and I hope you all like it. Also, I dedicated this to Ash (@let-it-burn) because she's the fucking bomb. peace.]