A barn is a terrible thing to waste!

Spoke with my zombie buddies and it was almost unanimous regarding my idea to start a zombie social club in the old storage barn.  The only zombie to disagree was Slickman.  I can’t imagine why unless it’s the steel plate in his head messing with what little brain power Slickman has left.  I get worried about this guy sometimes.  It’s not a question of if, but more of when is he going to step out in front of a fire truck haulin’ ass because he’s mistaken it for an ambulance carrying around patients with open wounds!  Anyway, the vote was tallied and the zombie club house will be developed.  Frank “The Shank” came up with the perfect name for our club.  We’ll call it “Brained & Stained”.  There were a lot of excellent and creative ideas that came out of my band of zombie misfits.  Boner suggested that we have a full service blood bar complete with freshly squeezed humans.  How intoxicating!  For my zombie buds that want to get a little wasted, we’ll have that covered as well.  All we have to do is ferment a few human brains, throw them in a blender with a little salt and pineapple juice and we’ve got the zombie’s tropical drink that will scramble the innards!  Ike “The Toothpick” threw in his two cents and said that we should have a liver salad bar.  You know it’s usually good to think about health food for the zombie who wants to watch what he’s eating but I had to veto this notion.  Hey, it’s a flippin’ zombie club!  A place to unwind and have fun and not a place to worry about what kind of crap we’re eating and drinking.  Sorry, Ike, but no dice.  We’ll have a pool table, a dart board or two, maybe even a foosball table.  Oh, and don’t forget the zombie dancing girls; we’ll have to get a few of them.  You know, to help offset our ugly mugs.  Just don’t tell my girlfriend, Stacey, or any of other members’ wives or girls!  SON OF A SWAMP MOTHER!! If they find out our plans to bring in zombie dancing girls, we’ll wish we had stayed six feet under. 

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