Daily Archives: October 14, 2015

PREVIOUSLY ON #31ZombieAuthors

Hello 3.5 readers.shutterstock_99981176 copy

Day 15!  We’ve reached the half-way mark for #31ZombieAuthors

For those of you just tuning in…

  • East Randomtown, the burg I call home, has been ravaged by a zombie apocalypse, masterminded by the dreaded Dr. Hugo Von Science.
  • I, Bookshelf Q. Battler, and my group of survivors including my girlfriend, Video Game Rack Fighter, alien/intergalactic correspondent Alien Jones, friend/former Funky Hunks rap duo partner Bernie “MC Plotz” Plotznick, and ex-girlfriend Blandie, who is totally the worst, have formed a survivor’s group.
  • You can read daily posts of our adventure’s in BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal.
  • Naturally, I can’t do this alone, so for the past fifteen days I’ve been reaching out to noted authors of zombie books to seek their undead expertise.  Check back here every day for a new zombie author interview.
  • Even if you’re one of those nerds who aren’t into zombies, these writers are still sharing their secrets to success, so if you’re an aspiring scribe, you’ll want to tune in and learn from the masters anyway.
  • For most of this month, my gang and I have been trapped in the East Randomtown Mall.  However, a complex plot, perhaps too complex for a blog with only 3.5 readers has emerged.
  • General Morganstern, a corrupt general who answers to a shadowy, yet to be named figure, is attempting to use the zombie apocalypse as a cover to blow me the hell up.
  • He’s gone on Network News One to assure the public that everyone in East Randomtown is either dead or a zombie, and that his planned air strikes won’t harm anyone.
  • Luckily, fans of the Funky Hunks, the wholesome, non-threatening rap duo Bernie and I were in during the late 1990s/early 2000’s, have been descending on the Army’s base of operations in West Randomtown to protest the strikes and inform the people that Bernie and I are very much alive.
  • They know this because they’ve been reading my posts on the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  Oddly, despite all this attention, I never seem to average more than 3.5 readers anyway.
  • After leaving the mall, the gang and I searched for my beloved Aunt Gertie, to no avail.  Is she lost? Dead?  Zombified?  Will I ever find out?  Oh Gertie, where are you?
  • Currently, the gang and I are holed up in “Hauser Town” or as it used to be know, the East Randomtown Park/Rec Center.  East Randomtownians are in a dispute over who is the town’s most famous citizen.  Some say it’s Doug because he appeared as an extra in a 1980’s cop drama for thirty entire seconds, during which his character had the snot beaten out of them.  Others say it’s me because I built a WordPress blog that brings in 3.5 readers.  I don’t care about the title.  Doug claims not to.  Thus far, we’ve been able to set the rivalry aside for the town’s greater good.

So that’s all you need to know, 3.5.  At some point, I’ll have to archive all of this in one easy to read format but until then, sit back, relax, and enjoy as the second half of #31ZombieAuthors begins!

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Zombie Trump Reviews the Walking Dead – Season 6, Episode 1 – First Time Again

By: Zombie Trump, Special Guest Reviewershutterstock_110983922 copy

Hello 3.5 losers.  Zombie Trump here, doing Bookshelf Q. Battler one hell of a favor by making a special guest appearance on his pitiful excuse for a blog.  Do you know that more people have read the ingredients on the back of those restaurant sugar packets than have read this lousy website?

I’ll tell you, BQB should be puckering up and smooching my rotten, undead derrière because getting me on this site is quite a get indeed.

OK, Battler.  Get ready for the highest stats ever on this crap hole.


So the gang is back and they’re broodier and angrier than ever.


Rick and Co. have spent the past five seasons surviving the zombie menace so at this point they’re all like “Look at us!  We know how to live in the dirt and kill zombies and shit!”

Please.  Who cares?  What kind of a job is that going to allow you to acquire in today’s market?

Oh, by the way, I’m supposed to say SPOILERS ahead or else a bunch of you goons will whine I ruined your favorite show.  Look.  There’s no way to ruin this show.  Zombies try to eat people.  People fight back.  Some of the people die occasionally.  Other times they don’t.  There you go.

So Rick’s crew reached Alexandria last season.  Alexandria’s a settlement that has survived since the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, thanks to a local politician and her engineer husband WHO BUILT A WALL to keep out the zombies, thus allowing the survivors behind the wall to live productive, zombie free lives.

Hmmm, I wonder which other zombie candidate in the race for the office of President of All Zombies proposed building a wall?  Walls work, people.  Ask the Chinese.  Have they been invaded by Mongolians lately?  No.  Thanks to the Great Wall.  And Alexandria has been able to keep the zombies out thanks to their wall.

Anyway, rather than congratulate the Alexandrians on their foresight to build an anti-zombie wall, Rick and his hoodlums are all like “Waah waah waah, we fought zombies in the woods and wandered around Georgia for five years, blah blah blah, we know everything.”

Yeah clowns.  Maybe you should have known to BUILD AN ANTI-ZOMBIE WALL.  Stop demanding that others reward you for your own incompetence, losers.


This first episode was some kind of half black and white, half color Tarantino style nonsense where they jumped between the past and the future.  I’m not going to lie.  For the first half-hour, I thought my zombie television was on the fritz, but I knew that couldn’t be, because I reside at the luxurious Zombie Trump Taj Mahal, where everything is really classy.

The big problem the group faced is that there was some kind of ridiculous zombie dam that was about to break loose and send the zombies on a big charge towards Alexandria.

Zombies tend to have a herd mentality.  Few are strong, independent forward thinking zombies like myself, who dare to pledge to make the Zombie Nation great again.

Rick’s big plan is to lead these zombies on a zombie parade, manipulating them down a path through sounds and (hey what do you know) WALLS designed to keep the undead from straying.

Wait a minute.  So zombies are that easy to control?  Just put a damn hill billy on a motorcycle and they’ll go anywhere you want them to?  Doesn’t that kind of negate the last five seasons?  Why doesn’t Daryl just lead all the undead off a cliff and save the world already then?

Seems like a big plot hole to this zombie.  But then again, it is a show about people who fight zombies so I suppose you have to suspend disbelief a bit to enjoy it.

Just like how Bookshelf Q. Battler suspends disbelief about how sucktastic his blog is so he can bring himself to keep blogging anyway.

Enjoy your hits running off the rails, Battler.  I’m off to dine on some first class brains at Chez Zombie Trump, the number one eatery in the world for zombies.  It’s so extravagant it makes all other zombie eateries look like the Outback Steakhouse.

Zombie Trump out.

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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 14 Interview – Kate L. Mary – Nerds vs. Hunks



Amazon          Website

Facebook         Twitter

Today’s guest is Kate L. Mary, author of the Broken World series.  Follow protagonist Vivian Thomas on the road in the midst of zombie mayhem as she and her DD’s convince a duo of redneck brothers to give her a ride to California so she can locate the daughter she gave up for adoption.

A stay-at-home mother and Air Force wife, Kate and her family have lived in Georgia, Mississippi, South Carolina, California and Oklahoma.

Her Amazon author page states:

“Kate prefers nerdy, non-traditional heroes who can make you laugh to hunky pieces of man-meat…”

So in other words, there’s a distinct chance I might be able to convince her to become the Bookshelf Battle Blog’s 4.5th reader.

Hello Kate.  Thanks for taking my call on the space phone.


Q.   Let’s talk about the role of trust in a zombie apocalypse.  Sometimes a disaster can bring out the best in people.  Other times, it can bring out the worst.  Unfortunately, you never know who you’re dealing with until it’s too late.  My group and I, having just located a survivor camp operated by a retired used car salesman/former television extra, are having trust issues.  I think it’s a pretty sweet set-up.  My girlfriend thinks we should run.  Naturally I thought about Vivian, who makes the tough decision to trust a pair of redneck brothers on her quest to find her daughter.  Can anyone ever be fully trusted in a zombie apocalypse?

A.   Trusting people during normal times can be tough, but when it comes to a lawless world it’s an even bigger gamble. I know a lot of people hold the belief that humans are basically good, but I wholeheartedly disagree. People are full of bad intentions, and too often the only thing keeping them from acting on those intentions are the consequences. Take away the threat of punishment, and the world will very quickly get a lot darker.

In the case of the used car salesman/former television extra, I’d have to say I’m with your girlfriend. I know the idea of a used car salesman being sleazy and underhanded is just a stereotype, but throw the role of television extra on top of that and every warning bell in my head goes off. This person spent his free time pretending to be someone else on a regular basis. What makes you think that just because the world has ended, he’s stopped pretending?

Q.   As a fan of zombie books, movies, TV shows, etc., I’ve noticed that whenever a group of people happen upon a place offering shelter and safety, it’s usually some kind of trick.  Someone inevitably ends up robbed, beaten, killed, sold into slavery, chopped up into lunch meat or what have you.  Maybe that’s why my better half is so jittery.

As a noted zombie author, can you settle a debate that’s long ranged in the world of zombie fandom?  When survivors happen upon a settlement operated by seemingly nice people, should their response be, “Feets don’t fail me now!” or “Thank you for your hospitality.  I think I will join you!”

A.   In a disaster like this, the idea that there are no good people left in the world has me thinking one thing: If that’s true, why go on? If you’re a good person just trying to survive, you have to assume there are other people out there with good intentions as well. But trusting someone shouldn’t be your first inclination or you’re liable to get robbed, beaten, killed, sold into slavery, or chopped up into lunchmeat. I think it’s important to give off a “thank you for your hospitality” vibe while keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious, much like Rick and crew did when they first arrived at Terminus at the end of season four of The Walking Dead. You have to keep hope alive or you’ll find yourself turning into the very monster you’re afraid to run into, but you need to be smart about it as well.

Q.   I’m led to believe you prefer laughable nerds over hunky pieces of man meat.  Naturally, as a poindexterish proprietor of a book blog that caters to 3.5 readers, who currently finds himself knee deep in a zombie apocalypse, I’m intrigued.  My ensuing inquiries are:

Q1)  Is that actually true or is that just something that women say before they make a beeline for the hunky man meat?

A.   It’s actually true! While hunky pieces of man meat are great to look at, that was never the type of man I dated, and it definitely won’t be who I rely on when the zombie apocalypse hits. Strength will only get you so far before a horde of zombies decides they want to feast on a meal of muscles, but intelligence will keep you going. And a sense of humor will not only keep you from losing your mind, but give you something to keep going for. While I do share the common problem of most female Walking Dead viewers—a love of Daryl Dixon—I have to admit that I’m in major awe of Glenn Rhee. I wouldn’t mind teaming up with him at the end of the world!

Q2)  Point of clarification:  Are we talking about a full blown, genuine, bonafide Star Wars toy owning geek despite being an adult type of nerd or the Hollywood version of a nerd, which is usually just a hunky piece of man meat that someone in wardrobe whipped a pair of glasses on?  (A hunk in nerd’s clothing, if you will.)

A.   I’m all about the adorable kind of nerd. Star Wars toys aren’t a must, but they also aren’t unwelcome—I own a few nerdy Walking Dead toys myself. My husband is a toy collecting nerd as well. For Father’s Day the last two years I got him Simpsons Lego sets. They are currently assembled and on display above our fireplace.

Q3)  What is it about a nerdy/non-traditional hero that intrigues you?

A.  I think it’s the unexpected. Seeing someone who didn’t think much of himself before the apocalypse rises to the challenge and becomes an important part of a group’s survival. Anyone who looks at a “hunky” guy will assume he’s going to be able to take care of himself, but it’s the people who surprise even themselves who are the most enjoyable to root for.

Q4)  Who are some of your favorite nerdy, non-traditional, non-hunky heroes?

A.   Glen Rhee of course. The evolution of his character over the last five seasons has been incredible to watch. Every now and then I like to turn on an episode from season one of The Walking Dead just to compare the characters, and seeing how much he has grown since then is mind-blowing.

I was also a huge fan of Chuck when it was on. Watching Chuck fumble his way through assignments was adorable, but seeing how much he had changed by the end of the series was even more fun.

Q.  The Broken World series is in Amazon’s top one hundred when it comes to post-apocalyptic and dystopian 511rJyBOZLL__SX331_BO1,204,203,200_fiction.  What’s your secret to bringing so many readers into your world?

A.  Honestly, I think it had a lot to do with timing. I wrote the first three books a few years ago, but sat on them for a bit while agents and editors took their time considering publishing Broken World. By the time I finally got around to putting the first book out myself, The Walking Dead had reached the status of TV phenomenon, and it’s popularity really helped the series take off. The fact that it’s a great series—I never get tried of rereading these books!—and so different from a lot of zombie books out there helped even more.

Q.  What inspired you to take your ideas and turn them into books that zombie fanatics the world over can enjoy?

A.  The Walking Dead, of course. I’ve always loved post-apocalyptic stories, especially zombie stuff, but the sudden popularity of The Walking Dead helped form a story in my head that I just couldn’t get rid of. I almost didn’t write it as a zombie novel, though. If you do any kind of research on what editors/publishers are looking for, you’ll discover the sad fact that they do not want zombie fiction. They say there’s no market for it, which is just crazy—especially now! I wrote the first chapter of Broken World as a post-apocalyptic novel similar to The Stand, but without the religious undertones. But only one chapter in and I changed my mind, deciding to take a risk and write the zombie novel I’d been thinking about for months. Broken World was the result, and I’m so glad I took that leap.

Q.   Kate, thanks for stopping by, and especially for enduring my inquisition vis a vis nerds vs. hunks.  Before I hang up the space phone, do you have any last minute advice that could help my friends and I brave the zombie apocalypse?

A.   Don’t lose hope! It’s the one thing that will get you killed faster than a horde of zombies. If you don’t have some kind of hope for the future, you won’t fight as hard or run as fast. You’ll find yourself wishing that you never wake up when you lay down to sleep at night. If you don’t have any hope that you will be able to find a safe place or that the horror will one day come to an end, it won’t be long before the only end you can imagine is death.

Thanks so much for having me, and I hope you and your group find a safe place to ride out the worst of the zombie apocalypse!

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Sanctuary in a Zombie Apocalypse – Stay or Run?

It’s one of the oldest zombie apocalypse tropes going.shutterstock_296856533

A plucky band of survivors happen across a makeshift utopia, a community safe from zombie attacks.

They’re invited in, made to feel welcome, given a purpose, a chance at a new life…and then…BAM!!!

The old double-cross.  They’re betrayed, killed, chopped up into a stew, you name it.

BQB thinks Fort Hauser is a pretty sweet deal and wants to stay.

VGRF thinks its all just a little too perfect and wants to head for the hills.

Who’s right?  Who’s wrong.

3.5 readers, BQB is counting on you. Advise him in the comments as to whether Fort Hauser is haven or a hoax.

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 14 – (Part 3)

Doug gave us the dime store tour of the camp he’d set up in the rec center gym.

Over a hundred makeshift beds were scattered across the wooden floor.  Some people slept on cots, others in sleeping bags, or on sheets and blankets.  Some folks who weren’t able to sleep milled about in different groups.

Near the bleachers, there was a buffet set up.  The welcome smell of hot soup filled my nostrils.

“This was all just a matter of being in the right place at the right time,”  Doug said.  “I’ve been a volunteer coach here since I retired…”

Hauser parlayed his fifteen seconds of fame into a car dealership, Hauser Hyundai.  People from all over stopped by to buy

Doug Hauser - One of East Randomtown's best and brightest, though that's not saying much.

Doug Hauser – One of East Randomtown’s best and brightest, though that’s not saying much.

South Korean cars at a reasonable price and watch Doug recreate his infamous fight scene.  Usually, he’d just whip a long haired wig onto one of his salesmen and ask him to pretend to be Don Johnson.

I witnessed this spectacle myself once when I was twelve and Aunt Gertie bought herself a used Hyundai.

“I was watching my boys score another win when the zombie apocalypse broke out,”  Doug explained. “The fence around the park has kept the monsters at bay and a few brave souls and I have been making daily scrounge missions into town, picking up all the supplies and survivors we can find and bringing them back here.”

“That’s impressive Doug,”  I said.  “East Randomtown is in your debt.”

“Oh it’s nothing, BQB.  I’m just doing what any good citizen in my shoes would do.”

“What’s this I hear you’re the Mayor now?”  I asked.

“Oh that,”  Doug said as he rolled his eyes.  “People just started calling me that.  I never asked for the title but you know how people are.  They need some authority figure to glom onto.  I was sad to hear about Mayor Bramble.  I’m going to call for a fair election as soon as possible.”

“Doug,”  I said.  “About that statue.  You know, I never had anything to do with…”

Doug belted out a big “SHHH!”

“Please BQB.  Of course I know you never asked Bramble to tear my likeness down and replace it with yours.  Do you really think I give a rat’s ass about that thing anyway?”

“You don’t?” I asked.

“Hell no,”  Doug said.  “Thirty years ago I was a dumb kid who tried to become an actor.  Other than getting the shit beaten out of me on one cop drama, it didn’t pan out.  That’s just life.  You try one thing.  It doesn’t work.  You try something else.  Bramble was the one who made a big deal about it.  He was always obsessed with drawing attention to a town no one’s ever heard of, same thing he did with you and your website.”

“You’re a good sport, Doug,”  I said.

“I always lecture my team about good sportsmanship. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t follow my own rules,”  Doug said.

Janet Melman was two years behind me at East Randomtown High.  She went on to become a nurse.

“Hey BQB,”  she said as she walked over in a pair of scrubs.

She turned to Doug.

“We need to talk, Mayor.  I’ve got a list of medications my patients need.  Some of them aren’t going to last long without them.”

“Excuse me, BQB,”  Doug said.  “Please, you and your friends get something to eat and get a good night’s sleep.  We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Doug and Janet walked off.

“And you thought coming here was a bad idea,”  I said.

“I’m still not convinced it wasn’t,”  VGRF said.  “This is all just a little bit too perfect.”

“Think whatever you want,”  I said.  “I’ma get me some hot soup and call another zombie author.”

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 14 (Part 2)



To protect the indigenous wildlife, a tall fence ran the whole perimeter of East Randomtown Park.

VGRF pulled our ride to the front gate.

It was manned by a pack of gun toting local yokels.

There was George the Barber, who’d made his living providing men’s regular cuts for forty years.  He was packing a pretty

The DiStefano Brothers - a pair of gun toting hoodlums even when East Randomtown wasn't zombified

The DiStefano Brothers – a pair of gun toting hoodlums even when East Randomtown wasn’t zombified

fierce looking shotgun.

The DiStefano Brothers, Carl and Billy, each carried a machete in one hand and a handgun in the other.

“Halt,”  George said, shining a light into our car.  “Who dares enter Fort Hauser?”

“It’s me George,”  I said.  “BQB. You’ve been my damn barber since I was a kid.”

“That gets you no special treatment here, nerd!”  George replied.  “State your business!”

“State my business?”  I asked.  “My friends and I want to come in and not get eaten by zombies!”

“Hold please,”  George said.

The barber pulled out a walkie talkie and mumbled into it.  A few seconds later, the voice on the other end clearly stated, “Send them in.”

Carl rolled the gate open.

“Proceed directly to the Rec Center,”  George said.  “Don’t dilly dally.  Mayor Hauser is expecting you.”

“MAYOR Hauser?”  I asked.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, poindexter,”  George said.

We did as we were told.  When we reached the rec center, we hopped out of the truck and found ourselves face to face with the infamous statue in question.

It was actually two statues set on one base.  Both cast in bronze, the one on the left was of a young, chubby cheeked Doug Hauser doubled over, a pained expression on his face as the statue on the right, that of a young Don Johnson, delivered a punch to Hauser’s stomach.

On the base, a plaque read:

In Honor of Douglas Adams Houser

Thirty seconds getting the snot beaten out of you on the greatest crime drama of the 1980’s brought an infinite amount of glory to East Randomtown.

Duct taped to the side of Doug’s head was a red piece of paper that read:


This monument is to be destroyed immediately and replaced with a sculpture of Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Plaque to read, “In honor of Bookshelf Q. Battler, the East Randomtown resident whose ingenuity brought the eyes of 3.5 readers to his hallowed website.”


Mayor Philbert T. Bramble

“We need to leave,”  VGRF said.  “This guy is going to shoot you in the head as soon as he sees you.”

shutterstock_51833212“VGRF,”  I said.  “I’ve met him before.  He came to my elementary school once and told us all about how Don Johnson left him pissing blood for a month.  Sure, that probably wasn’t the best story for a bunch of little kids to hear, but still.  Doug Hauser is East Randomtown’s favorite son. I don’t care what Bramble’s stupid decree says.”

I knocked on the glass door.

Doug’s voice came over the intercom.

“One moment.  I’m coming.”

A minute later, the door opened and Doug walked out to greet us.  He wore a dirty white undershirt, a pair of jeans and had a gun secured in a holster on his hip.  He was in his early sixties, but despite a few wrinkles, a few extra pounds, and a receding hair line, he looked just like his statue.

He took one look at me, grinned, and gave me a big hug.

“Bookshelf Q. Battler.  Thank God you found us.”

“Good to see you, Doug,”  I said.  “This is…”

“I know,”  Doug said.  “We’ve got a generator going and one of my guys rigged up a Wi-Fi hotspot.  I’ve been monitoring your survivor’s journal.  A pleasure to meet you, Video Game Rack Fighter.  Bernie.  Blandie.  And this must be…”

Doug squatted down and gave Alien Jones the old once over.  AJ was still in his incognito hipster disguise.

“Are you for real?”  Doug asked.

“Are you?”  Alien Jones replied.

“If it’s all the same,”  I said.  “We try to keep him on the down low.  Sure, I talk about him on the blog but no one ever believes any of my posts are for real.  If we could just tell everyone he’s my deformed kid with ADD, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course,”  Doug said.  “Please, entre vous.  Mi casa es su casa.”

At this point, Attorney Donnelly, Official Legal Counsel for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, advises me to state that at no time did Mr. Don Johnson, one of the greatest thespians in the history of the stage and/or screen, ever make Doug Hauser piss blood, nor did he beat him up or injure him in anyway.  Any reference to Mr. Johnson and/or Miami Vice are purely for fictional and parody purposes only. 

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 14 (Part 1)

October 14, 2015 – 12:00 A.M.

Night fell and we were back in the Compensator, heading west through the Great Random Forest, a tract of undeveloped land where the trees grew tall and other than the squirrels, there wasn’t much of anyone to keep a guy company.

“What’s that?”  I asked, pointing to a plywood sign.

Scrawled on it with black spray paint were the words:

Sanctuary for the Worthy

Head Ye Who Would Dare to Fort Hauser

(Formerly Known as the East Randomtown Park and Rec Center)

“Fort Hauser?”  VGRF asked.

“Hauser,”  I said.  “Doug Hauser!”

Doug Hauser - BQB's rival for the title of East Randomtown's Most Famous Citizen

Doug Hauser – BQB’s rival for the title of East Randomtown’s Most Famous Citizen

“The guy who was an extra for thirty seconds in one episode of Miami Vice in 1985?”  VGRF asked.  “The guy you beat for the title of most famous East Randomtown resident when you obtained 3.5 readers for the Bookshelf Battle Blog?”

“The same,”  I replied.  “He must have started a survivor colony.”

East Randomtown Park was a family favorite.  Picnics, concerts, sports, you name it.  It had a walking trail, a beautiful pond, tennis courts, I could go on and on.  It was one of the few locations the town had going for it.  At the Westernmost point of the tract of land was a rec center with a basketball court and a gym, not to mention an indoor track and swimming pool.

“Something doesn’t smell right,”  VGRF said.

“I’m sorry,”  Bernie said.  “That was me, yo.”

Blandie gagged.  “Oh my God!  I need air!”

“That’s not a good idea,”  VGRF said.

“It’s not a good idea to die of asphyxiation either,”  Blandie said as she rolled down her window.

Alien Jones, who was sitting between my ex and my friend, chimed in.

“I must concur with the blonde human.  The stench is quite potent.  Fairly close in molecular composition to the gas banned for warfare purposes by Intergalactic Space Law.”

“I wasn’t talking about that anyway,”  VGRF said.  “This guy just puts out signs inviting people to seek his help because…why?  The kindness of his heart?  I’m sorry but throwing in with him would be a terrible idea.”

“A zombie apocalypse can bring out the worst in people,”  I said.  “Or the best. Maybe this is Hauser at his best?”

“Your mate is astute, BQB,”  Alien Jones said.  “I sense this is the worst.”

“That’s just an old zombie apocalypse trope,”  I said.  “The old ‘invite people to a camp under the guise of charity then rob and/or murder and/or eat them’ routine.  This isn’t a book or a TV show.  This is real life.  We should check it out.”

“Aren’t you’re the last person Hauser wants to see?”  VGRF asked.  “Seeing as how Mayor Bramble was planning to have Hauser’s statue torn down and replaced with a sculpture of you?”

“I never wanted that,”  I said.  “I’m sure Hauser knows that.  Head to the park, babe.  There’s safety in numbers.  Morganstern can’t kill everyone.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,”  Alien Jones said.

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