“What are you up to Alien Jones?” I asked.
“Consulting the human news reports,” Alien Jones said as he surfed his space phone.
“Aww sweet,” Bernie said as he cupped his hands and held them out from his chest, performing his best imitation of a stacked woman. “Put on the channel that has that hot ass blonde chick with big titties!”
“Which one?” Alien Jones asked. “All human news outlets appear to require nothing of their reporters other than an attractive face and a copious bosom region.”
“Just pick one,” I said.
Alien Jones pushed a button and put a news channel up on a holographic display so we could all watch it. A television sized squared hovered in the middle of the room.
On it? A female reporter, just as Bernie described.
“Hello. I’m a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties reporting live from West Randomtown.”
“Wow,” VGRF said. “It’s like they don’t even TRY to hide it anymore.”
“…where the military has established a forward operating base to respond to the zombie apocalypse in East Randomtown.”
The screen switched to the news room. Walking, talking Ken doll Kurt Manley sat behind the Network News One desk, shuffling some papers to give the appearance that he was doing something important.
“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” Kurt said. “I see General Morganstern is with you. What’s his assessment of the situation? Just how dire are things in East Randomtown?”
The reporter held her mic under the face of the grizzly, war weary General Thomas Morganstern. I recognized his gravelly voice from a number of war related news reports over the years. He wore a finely starched uniform that was lousy with medals.
“Make no mistake about it, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” General Morganstern said. “East Randomtown is filled to the brim with hideous, flesh eating monsters who’d rip your larynx out and swallow it whole as soon as look at you.”
“That sounds horrible,” the reporter interjected.
“It certainly does,” General Morganstern continued. “However, what your viewers need to be aware of, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, is that the U.S. Army is here to keep the situation under control. We’ve surrounded East Randomtown with our best and bravest, who are on standby to eradicate any zombie who dares attempt to shuffle over the town line. Moreover, a series of coordinated air strikes are scheduled to begin bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“What’s the first target, General?” the reporter asked.
“Well, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” the General said. “Surely, you understand that normally I would not advertise over the public airwaves where we intend to hit the enemy. However, since we’re only dealing with a bunch of dumbass zombies here, I can tell you the first strike will be on ground zero of the zombie apocalypse, the East Randomtown Mall.”
We all let out a collective gasp. One of us emitted a panicked fart. I swear it wasn’t me. It probably wasn’t Alien Jones either as he doesn’t have a butt. My guess is it was Bernie though I never did get closure on that one.
Back to the newsroom.
“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties…”
“Yes, Kurt?”
“What about collateral damage?” the anchorman asked. “Surely there must be a few survivors left within the East Randomtown limits.”
Back to the base.
“Have you taken potential survivors into account, General?” the reporter asked.
“Indeed we have, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” General Morgenstern replied. “The public should rest assured that through a carefully conducted campaign of drone surveillance, we have concluded beyond a shadow of a doubt that there are no more human beings left alive in East Randomtown. Every last resident is either dead or has been turned into a hideous zombie. Once we’ve softened up key positions through a series of bombing runs, our units will move in and clean the rest up.”
A bunch of forty-something ladies wearing pink bedazzled cat sweatshirts and blue denim sweatpants marched onto the scene, waving picket signs and shouting, “Save the Funky Hunks! Save the Funky Hunks!”
Bernie was beside himself.
“People still love us!” Bernie shouted. “I knew it!”
“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” Kurt said. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Kurt,” the reporter said. “I’m going in to investigate.”
The reporter pulled aside one of the protestors.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m a Hot Blonde Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties reporting for Network News One…”
“Oh yah!” the lady responded with a thick North Dakotan accent, “I love the Network News One, dontcha know?”
“May I have your name?”
“I’m Mrs. Mary Flunderson of Bismarck and my friends and I represent the North Dakota Funky Hunks Fan Club.”
“The Funky Hunks?” the reporter asked.
“Oh yah,” Mary said. “They were a real nice, polite duo of boys from the late 90’s and early 2000’s who rapped about wholesome topics like looking both ways before crossing the street and asking a girl for permission before you give her the old smooch-a-roo.”
“I don’t understand,” the reporter said. “What do they have to do anything?”
Mary pointed to her picket sign. It had pictures of Bernie and I from back in the day, decked out in our rap gear, backwards hats and all.
“The Funky Hunks used to go by the names ‘Read N. Plenty’ and ‘MC Plotz’ but they’re really Bookshelf Q. Battler and Bernie Plotznick. They’re both residents of East Randomtown and as soon as we heard about the zombie apocalypse, we drove all the way here to hold a candlelight vigil for those wonderful boys.”
“Does she realize you guys are just a tad younger than she is?” VGRF asked.
“Hold on,” I replied. “Hear the woman out.”
“Our mothers loved the Funky Hunks and now we do too, thanks to streaming media, dontcha know?”
“Have you been getting residuals?” I asked Bernie.
“Yeah,” he said. “The studio sends me a ten dollar check every year.”
“Where’s my check?”
“It’s uh…supposed to be for the both of us,” Bernie said, sinking his head down. “Sorry yo.”
“Oh,” I said. “That’s ok. Keep it. You need it.”
“The Army cannot blow up the East Randomtown mall,” Mary said. “BQB and Bernie are there right now!”
“How do you know this?” the reporter asked.
“Have you ever read the Bookshelf Battle Blog, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties?” Mary asked.
“No,” the reporter answered. “Is that even a real thing?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “It’s a blog with 3.5 readers operated by Mr. Battler. He’s been keeping a zombie apocalypse survivor’s journal from day one.”
“I have noticed a slight uptick in readers lately,” I said. “It must be Mary and her buddies!”
Kurt put a concerned look on his face and intervened.
“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties.”
“Kurt?”
“I’m told our in-studio technician is working to confirm the existence of this so-called ‘Bookshelf Battle Blog’ but in the meantime, what is General Morganstern’s reaction?”
“General Morganstern,” the reporter said. “In light of this claim that two former rappers are alive and inside the East Randomtown Mall, will you cancel tomorrow’s airstrike?”
“Absolutely not, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” the General said. “These forty-something year old ladies in blue denim stretch pants are mistaken. We’ve researched the matter thoroughly. Everyone in East Randomtown is either dead or a zombie.”
The military man raised his hands.
“Please disperse ladies! There is nothing to see here! Leave now or you will be arrested!”
Army dudes marched in and cleared the ladies out.
“Reporting live for Network News One, I’m a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, signing off.”
Back to the newsroom.
“Thank you Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,” Kurt said. “Next up, is your breakfast cereal trying to strangle you in your sleep? Another Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties will give you the answer after this word from our sponsor…”
“Alien Jones,” I said. “Can you put up my blog stats?”
AJ punched a button and the Bookshelf Battle Blog stats were on screen.
“Whoa!” I said. “One million…two million…three million…THREE POINT FIVE MILLION AND….back to 3.5. Everyone’s back to officially not giving a shit.”
“Better to have had readers and lost than to have never had readers at all,” Alien Jones said. “But I believe we have bigger problems.”




