Hey, Zans! Jamie Bogart here, producer of WZMB. After talking Jimmy out of posting celebrity nude photos here (of himself!), I figured let’s use the space in a useful way. Let’s take a moment to honor the Heroes! The brave men and women who have helped you and me survive by killing a zombie.
Now, they didn’t wake up in the morning and say “I’m going to kill a zombie today.” They went about their day as they usually do, getting ready for work, taking out the trash, abusing the cat (my friends insist that’s just me, but they haven’t met my cat.)… and suddenly, a zombie erupted into their reality, brains on its breath and blood on its… well, everything.
They didn’t run away screaming into the night like a little child and leave the problem for someone else, probably me. No! They took a stand for all of us, and with whatever weapons they had to hand, they took that zombie out. It wasn’t easy, especially if it was only one of their first twenty kills. But they stood tall, manned up, and kept swinging.
Many people out there will claim that they killed a zombie, but these Sack-tion Heroes hold the proof in their hands– an official NYPD Zombie Kill Certificate, notarized and embossed. This is the gold standard in zombie kill verification, and proof positive that someone has eaten their last brain.
So if you should see any of these people out on the street, buy ‘em a beer, give ‘em your seat on the bus, or pat ‘em on the back. (Don’t pat ‘em too suddenly, though– they may be armed.)
Zombie Killers, We Salute You!
Normally, when a zombie comes for you, the kill is frantic and hurried. But Mr. Stone got himself an exceptionally slow zombie, lurching at a glacial 2 miles per hour. So James had time to get creative. Falling back on his geekish love of the old series McGuyver, he ran inside, ordered the series on DVD from Amazon, waited two days for the post office to deliver it (the mail man walked past the shambling zombie,) found the episode he wanted, and assembled the ultimate zombie weapon using a rusty butter knife, a steel tube, and gun powder from some blanks. Unfortunately, the blast was so bright, it seared Mr. Stone’s retinas, and he’s now clinically blind. Still, he managed to send us a picture that he will never see. Whoever is reading this to him, please relay our gratitude and admiration for a spectacular zombie kill!
Patty could never please her father. A carpenter by trade, he was disappointed that Patty had not been born a man, and never let a chance pass to remind her. Seeking Dad’s love, Patty would spend all of her spare time in the back yard, pounding nails with a ball peen hammer that she had bought from Goodwill with Coke bottle money. She knew that someday she’d make her father proud. Though that day never came, the Zombie Apocalypse did. Bragging that his home-made defense perimeter would withstand all zombie incursions, it didn’t withstand the first, and Patty’s father was soon bitten. The zombie would have devoured the rest of the family as well, if not for Patty’s self-taught skill with the ball peen hammer. With all her pent-up frustration finally given vent, Patty flattened the zombie’s head into a mealy pancake, whispering “This is for you, Dad,” with every swing. We’re proud of you, Patty, and we know your Dad would be, too, if he didn’t want your brains. Get back to work!
Always a proud booster of all things Florida, Jackie is the first to send crates of oranges to new acquaintances and alligator toe keychains to grandchildren. But her Florida loyalty was tested when she invested her life savings in a local winery that specialized in grapefruit wine. For some reason, the product never connected with consumers, and Jackie was left with no retirement funds, $17,496 in credit card debt, 500 cases of grapefruit wine and four angry children. But life is full of new beginnings. While playing Uno with friends, one of her cardmates transformed before her eyes into a zombie. Grabbing a nearby bottle of grapefruit wine, Jackie crammed it into the zombies festering maw. Then, maneuvering the ghoul into her tub, she filled it to the brim with wine until the beast dissolved in a sickening yet sweet-smelling sludge. Now all of Jackie’s friends want a case of the magic, zombie killing elixir, and Jackie can charge top dollar. Where there’s a swill, there’s a way.