Zombie Attack at Trailer Park

Nobody outside Pitfalls, Illinois, gonna believe this but it be true. Ted, Fat Freddie and me seen it happen.

'Course, Ted's dead.

But me and Fats survived and we think everybody gotta know 'cos it could happen again. Folks gotta be warned n' such, somehow, even if them uppity newspeople won't talk to us. I think they's trying to keep it hushed like.

Sees, I gotta theory 'bout the whole bizness. I think somebody is building these here trailer parks smack dab next door to cemeterys for a reason, and it ain't a purty one. I think certain folks know they's gonna come a real honest-to-goodness zombie apopcalypse and they figure what's a few trailer parks, more or less. We're like the front line boys ... expendable like, if you get my drift. Like the canary in a coal mine.

But about that whole ugly bizness 'bout what happened t'other nite. It were awful I tell you but here it be:

Me and Ted had spent all afternoon working on Fat's truck, the big old red Ford he keeps parked behind the Dairy Queen when he's up there messin' around with Miz Candi Bandy and trying to sweet talk her out of an extra dilly bar or two. Well, that old Ford (I'm a Chevy man myself and plan to stay thatta way) had done thrown a rod and Fats was fit to be tied as how was he gonna get no ice cream with his truck all buggered up and no govermint check comin' till the first o' next month?

They don't call Freddie 'Fats' for nuthin.

But me and Ted sed we'd pitch in, take that old red bugger apart and switch out engines, if'n Fats would supply the beer, knowing full well he always has a couple o' cases coolin' out in the shed where his momma cant' find it 'cos she believes mighty strong in meetin' up with Jesus one day and she aims for her boy to do the same. (Fats feels reel bad that the zombies ate his momma but he's glad she's with Jesus now, or at least the parts of her they couldn't digest. Praise the Lord them zombies left his pet iguana alone. That would'uv broke Fat's faith in the Almighty, he told me later.)

So where wuz I? Oh, yeah. We boys been working on that fool truck all day, till bout sundown come and there weren't no more light left to see by, and anyways half the street lights are busted in the park so no help there. Call it a day, boys, Fats sed. And right smart thinkin' too, as we'd had enough beer that Ted couldn't tell a Phillips from a flathead, not that it matterd after all 'cos betwixt you n' me that truck had seen the last of it's glory days and one more rod thru the engine was jes another nail in the coffin, so's to speak.

Anyway, it were just another early evening with the sunset gleaming all purty off the sheet metal and the cats comin' out of hiding. Jes like always and nobody suspected that in another hour they was gonna be dead people stumblin' around gobbling up brains like bratwurst.