It’s been a week since I lost my job at the meat counter. Of course, I could have lost my head just like Cuttin’ Carl did, but that’s a different can of worms. It’s not like Carl was using it anyway. In my unemployed state, it has been apparent that depression is starting to creep in. For one, I’ve been overeating quite a bit. Usually a zombie eats three humans a day, but since getting fired, I’ve overindulged with a whopping extra seven humans. Two of my zombie pals, Boner and Slickman, became pissed at me. Boner said, “If you continue to overeat beyond your share of the humans, Jed, dwarfs will be the only nourishment left for the rest of us!” (Dwarfs are basically the appetizers in the zombie meal plan. They’re tasty, but a zombie can not be sustained with these bite-sized morsels.) I responded to Boner, “You’d think you knuckleheads would have something better to do than to worry about my eating habits.” I guess I can’t fart without the rest of the zombies worrying about how it affects the graveyard culture. Maybe I should start a zombie biker gang. With me in charge of the biker gang, there would be an established pecking order to how things go down, with no room for complainers. I already have my Harley, thanks to Cuttin’ Carl. Now where can I find the rest of the members of my club?
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Freakin' Dead Jed and all other characters are copyright 2011 by Action Avenue Art Studio, Action Avenue Studio and Paul Addison.