Daily Archives: April 17, 2016

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 79


Standing Eagle and a dozen of his warriors galloped their horses to the top of a hill overlooking the valley that contained Highwater below.  Wandering Snake trained his spy glass on the smoke signals as they rose into the air.

The tribe’s shaman translated the signals out loud.  “Attention…Injuns…”

The Chief slapped his forehead.  “Oh spirits give me strength.  They’re even racist in code.”

“White men…in heap big trouble…”

“There,” Standing Eagle said. “Right there.  That is a vicious stereotype.  None of us use the word ‘heap’ to describe anything.”

Screeching Owl, one of the tribe’s younger warriors, rode his steed up to the group and peered at the puffs of smoke rising above the town.

“Sorry I am late,” Owl said. “Wow.  That’s a heap many smoke clouds.”

Eagle looked to Snake, who shrugged his shoulders.  “Oh fine. So one of us uses the word ‘heap’ in place of ‘many’ or ‘very’ and to the white man that means we all do it.  I swear the white man judges every other group based solely on its dumbest member.  Owl!”

Owl turned his gaze to the Chief.  “Chief?”

“Stop saying ‘heap!’”

Owl nodded. “I’m heap sorr…I’m very sorry.”

Snake continued the translation.  “Monsters have…overrun…town.  Soon will…take over…country.  Please…send help…so we can defeat…leader of monsters.”

“Give me that,” Eagle said as he grabbed Snake’s spy glass and trained it about the town.  Wherever he looked, he saw buildings on fire, half-eaten bodies in the streets, and dead men traipsing about.

“What in the…Snake!”


“What’s going on down there?” Eagle asked.

The shaman lit up a stick that was doused with sweet smelling incense, the aroma of which he believed would ward off evil.

“The spirits are angry.”

Eagle kept using the spy glass to take in different views of the carnage until he spotted old man Knox and his boys standing on the back of a flipped over cart, shooting every last bullet they had at a throng of zombies until they were torn apart, severed limbs being tossed everywhere.

“The white men need help,” Eagle said as he handed the spy glass back to the shaman.

Like his namesake, Charging Bobcat was lean and wiry.  His hair was styled in a mohawk, with tattoos inked along the shorn sides of his head.  A feather dangled from his ear.

“Let the white men die, Eagle,” Bobcat said.  “This is likely their doing.  Some sort of experiment they did to ‘improve’ over Mother Nature’s wishes coming back to bite them…literally.”

“Right,” Eagle said.  “Start a fire and send them my response.  ‘Dear White Men.  So sorry that another group just showed up one day and started taking all of your shit even though you all had clearly been there for awhile.  We have no idea what that’s like…”

Snake shook his head.

“What?” Eagle asked.  “Too much sarcasm?”

The shaman peered once more at the town through his telescope.  “Spirits would say that the evil of others is no excuse for you to commit evil.  Those in need must be helped by those who can.”

“Damn it, Snake,” Eagle said.


The Chief turned his attention to his scout, Crafty Fox, who was quickly galloping in from the south side of the mountain, flanked on either side by two more scouts.

There was a look of terror on Fox’s face.

“Come quickly!”

Eagle and his braves followed the scouts to the South side of the mountain.  Though they were all battle tested fighters, the warriors’ mouths gaped in awe at the sight that unfolded before their eyes.

Lines of werewolves marched in formation from the West, snapping whips across the backs of the zombies ahead of them, herding them toward Highwater.  It was a massive army, thousands in total.

Eagle was calm and resolute in his orders.  “All of you.  Return to the village.  Gather the women, children and the elderly and seek refuge with our friends in the south.”

“And what of you?”  Bobcat asked.

“I will do what I always do,” the Chief said.  “I will stand.”

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How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 78


All by his lonesome, Doc rocked back and forth in the rickety chair he was tied to.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.

“Scoundrels,” Doc said to himself.  “If they think they can imprison the likes of Doctor Elias T. Faraday then they have another thing com…”

Smash.  The last rock went all the way backwards and the chair collapsed underneath Doc’s weight.  The ropes gave way and he was free.

When he stood up, Doc found himself face to face with the Reverend, who had grown weary of the bonfire outside.

The two men stared each other down.

“Are you going to bite me?” the Reverend asked.

“I should think not,” Doc replied.

The Reverend headed for his pulpit.  In the stand he used to deliver his sermons, there was a drawer.  He opened it and produced a bottle of whiskey.  “Then have a drink with me.”

“I suppose it would be impolite of me to turn you down,” Doc said.  “I say, Reverend.  Have you any writing paper?”

Curious, the preacher looked at the doctor.  “I do.”

“Might I importune you for two sheets please?” Doc asked.

The Reverend chuckled at Doc’s big words.  “You may so importune me.”

“And some ink if you can spare it,”  Doc said as he took a seat at the table.

Moments later, the Reverend returned with some paper, a quill pen, a jar of ink and a drink for the good doctor.

“Tell me,” the Reverend said. “Do you think you will remain as you are now or will you become one of the damned?”

Doc dipped the pen into the ink then proceeded to scrawl words in calligraphy across a page.

“I suspect I’ve been damned for quite some time due to the life I have lived, my good man,” Doc said as he dotted his I’s and crossed his T’s.  “But if you are asking if I will become a mindless flesh consuming zombie then I haven’t the foggiest.  I could live comfortably for many years in this harmless state or I could drop dead instantly and proceed to cannibalize the person next to me.

The Reverend gulped and slid his chair a few inches away from Doc.

“Not that I feel as though I’ll drop dead presently, mind you,” Doc said.

The two men sat and drank.  Doc finished writing on one paper, then took a second sheet and wrote on it.

“I suppose that is that is the nature of life,” the Reverend said.  “Whether or not you are about to become a brain sucking son of a bitch, none of us know how much time we have left.  We think we know and we plan accordingly but…”

The Reverend snapped his fingers.  “…at anytime we could go just like that.  Tragic, when you think about it.”

“I try my very best not to,” Doc said as he slid the second page across the table to the Reverend.  “Sir, you’d be doing me a kindness if you were to sign this document for me.”

The Reverend pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and studied the paper.

“This is a lie,”  the Reverend protested.

“Does that matter in times such as these?” Doc asked.

“My integrity may be misplaced at the moment,” the Reverend said. “But I assure you it’s still around.  If you’re asking me to be a part of something sinister…”

Doc slid the first paper across the table.  The Reverend studied it.  “Oh.”

Without thinking a second longer, the Reverend dipped the quill into the ink jar and scratched his name across the bottom of the document.

The doctor and the preacher clinked their glasses together.

“To science and religion,” Doc said. “Working together for the common good.”

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Alien Jones Checks In

Greetings Earth Losers.


The Esteemed Brainy One plays Candy Crush on his Space Phone

The Esteemed Brainy One here, blogging from Kemphos 91, where an uprising has occurred due to a lack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Yes, that’s right. You’d be surprised in the vastness of space, that such seemingly trivial things are capable of generating interplanetary conflicts but here we are.

Keep in mind that the Kemphans require a constant supply of peanuts or else they break out into spontaneous song and dance numbers, which sounds like fun, but then they do it for days until finally their heads explode.

I’ve seen it happen. It isn’t pretty. It’s like being front row at a Gallagher performance.

Kemphos 1-90 really needs to fork over some of their peanut reserves to 91 but until then, I have to do my best to keep the peace.

Apologies for not writing more this year, Earth losers, but I just haven’t had the time. Disorder has been breaking out all over the cosmos this year. It’s very unsavory.

In the meantime, please assist me with my mission to launch BQB’s writing career. The sooner BQB is an established writer, the sooner the Mighty Potentate will get off my back.

Did I say get off my back? I meant to say until the Mighty Potenate can be pleased by another one of his genius plans coming to fruition.

All hail the Mighty Potentate.

Here’s where you can find Bookshelf Q. Battler on the inter webs.





Humans, I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but your likes and follows will help keep the Mighty Potentate’s plans to conquer the Earth at bay.

Technically, I’m not allowed to criticize the Mighty Potentate, but let’s just say that he literally solves all political problems by vaporizing his opponents.

Not exactly a boon for democracy, but it does make for fun prime time debate viewing.

Thank you 3.5 Earth losers.  I’ll be back sometime this summer to answer your questions, so keep them coming.

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Movie Review – Criminal (2016)

A CIA agent’s memories are planted into a murderer’s brain in a last ditch effort to save the world from annihilation in this star studded thriller.

BQB here with a review of Criminal.

Be forewarned – SPOILERS will be implanted into your brain if you read any further.

Movieclips Trailers – Criminal (2016)

I have to admit it. I went into this film wanting to hate it. Kevin Costner is old as dirt and though that’s not something to make fun of him about because it happens to the best of us, his last action movie 3 Days to Kill was lame to the point where I wondered maybe he ought to start playing older respectable folk (like he did well in Man of Steel) and let the parts that involve running around to the youngsters.

Yet, he surprised me here as he was well suited to the part – a bumbling oaf who would never be able to pull off a spy mission without having a spy’s memories implanted into his brain.

Did that sound like a backhanded compliment? OK yes but it wasn’t meant to be. (Or was it?)

Ryan Reynolds is Billy Pope, a CIA agent who dies before he’s able to share crucial information with his superiors that could prevent a terrorist from destroying the world. Yes, the whole damn world is at stake.

This is Reynolds’ second brain transfer movie.  He and Sir Ben Kingsley swapped brains in Self/Less.  Super hero flicks and brain transfer movies are what Double-R is all about now.

Gary Oldman, as CIA boss Quaker Wells, enlists Tommy Lee Jones’ Dr. Franks to step up an experimental memory transfer process that’s he’s never tested on humans before.

The guinea pig is Jericho Stewart (Kevin Costner) a convicted criminal who, due to a brain injury as a child, has no concept of right or wrong or how to behave in society.

He’s very dangerous but he’s not Hannibal Lecter.  Lecter knew what he was doing.

Jericho, on the other hand, is basically an old feral animal. If he wants something, he takes it. If someone gets in his way, he kills them. If he wants to do something then he does it without a grasp of why he shouldn’t.

Costner shined in this part, playing Jericho as a broken down ignoramus who, thanks to the memories of nice and noble Billy Pope, suddenly develops knowledge and skills he can use to defeat the evil terrorist Heimdahl (Jordi Molla).

Gal Gadot leaves her lasso at home to play Pope’s wife and help Jericho on his mission.

Michael Pitt, who you may remember as Jimmy Darmody in Boardwalk Empire, plays “the Dutchman” i.e. the man who can help Jericho save the day.

In short, when I go to a movie wanting to hate it and come out liking it, it’s a rare surprise.

Is there the occasional plot hole? Sure. One thing I noticed was despite what a dangerous monster Jericho is portrayed as, the various agents don’t seem to put a whole helluva lot of effort into his security…but…hey.  It’s an action movie.

Go see it.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy

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