Zombie Killer Jimmy Rudolph? Why does everyone keep laughing at that title? Even my agent… Jesus. You kill a zombie after all these years, and you’d think you’d get a little respect. But no. All I get are chortles, guffaws, and milky nasal discharge. I just had this suit cleaned, assholes! But if you want the proof of my badd-ass-ity, check out this weeks episode of Zombie Radio Show!
There. You see? Now what is so goddam funny about that? So I can’t remember every detail, so what? Killing zombies, as those of us who have done it know, is a primal act, one that bypasses the memory circuits and goes straight to the limbic system. I have no recollection of details. I only remember this red film coming over my eyes, thinking “No more” and everything went black. I wasn’t myself again until I got to the police station, trophy ear in hand. Since that moment, little fragments have begun filtering back into my awareness; the 7 foot zombie, a young orphan waif in danger, a hurt puppy licking my face, my mother screaming at me to come home, Brigitte Bardot naked– I have to say, it must have been one of the most interesting zombie kills on record. I can’t wait to remember the whole thing! Especially that Brigitte Bardot part. And while I can’t say the video adaptation of today’s episode is anywhere nearly as entertaining, it’s worth a peek. Check it out!
So there you have it, Jazz Fans. Jimmy Rudolph has sliced the stem off his zombie cherry. So forgive a certain brusqueness in my demeanor if we should meet. You see, I’ve gazed into the abyss, and all true warriors know that you can’t kill a thing without killing a part of yourself. I make that sacrifice for my neighbors and the world– okay, could you not drink milk while we talk?! Jesus!