zombies and sheep

+++Sees an unfamiliar door, with the unmistakeable stench of unwashed Australian wafting beneath the jam....... opens door (very carefully), takes a good look inside, blinks hard, looks again, and slowly shakes head.... closes door (very quietly) returns to his room, and sits, lost in thought........+++

"Hmmmm - I'll need to think about this one...."

+++Opens bottle of Theakstons Old Peculiar, lights a cigarette, leans back, falls over, swears, crawls back onto chair, picks up remains of beer & a now horribly foreshortened cigarette, leans back (more carefully), and begins to ponder........+++

*** (click) "ayyyy good morning Central Cali, time to hit the ground running and grease the wheels....  first a news update." A  sleep palsied hand stretches for the off button, "this just in.... Zombie's have attacked a farmers sheep just south of the 140 and Avenue 12 interchange. Police are baffled at the zombie's sudden change of attitude as negotiations appeared to be going smoothly for the restoration of medical benefits."

The hand slowly rubs the sleep crud from tired eyes as they focus upon the closed door of the Aussie Terminator in the next room. "An estimate of 30 sheep have been torn assunder during the rampage....."

Rolling to his side, the rippling muscles push the long, powerful frame from the sofa. "Must inform Dudezan..... his flocks under attack..... payback time...," a cloudy beer haze engulfs the Prog-nerd as he shuffles towards the grimey door.

(knock knock)   "Go away, mate. Need a few more minutes" (knock knock) "Crikey, get off the door, mate, or I'll slap me wallaby on yer head!!!"

A crash of splintering wood and squealling metal as Danbo breaks through the solid core door. "Now Dudezan, it's on.... the zombies are kiling your sheep. I told you zombie's aren't cut out for field labor.... GO!!!!"

 

Edited by danbo

Throbbin' runs to the dudecave whilst slipping on his leather vest and feather boa and attempting to keep his slippers from flapping....(twap twap twap) Tripping over a discarded lambchop, he realises the futility of the mission. Two men against a hundred zombies.... not good odds.

 

enter the Electric Minstrel for continuity's sake...revived and programmed to carry out his timeless, thankless wandering; a Stochastic Simon Templar armed with the complete Tull discography and a culinary taste for mouldering mutton. Free of concerns about sanitation and disease, he would be the perfect predatory bane to these legions of undead if only he could move a bit faster on his single titanium leg.

The slickened clown rises up to claim victory, when out of the clouds jumps a humugous kangaroo shape vehicle with boxing gloves..... the clown shrinks back and runs for the nearest pool of fairy shrimp... (sploosh) (glurp glurp gflurp)

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Dudezan emerges from the Kangamobile... stout and erect, with his throbbing baton at the ready. The sheep cower, no leadership in sight. An easy victory for the Aussie stud-muffin.

 

 

 

Throbbin awoke from a brief slumber in the back seat of the Kangamobile to find the emmaciated figure of Jimmy-Lee looming over him, poised to rifle through his outerwear superhero pants.......... Prostrate and vunerable as he was, Throbbin' came to the only possible conclusion as the minstrel reached for the tell-tale bulge:

"Oi! leave my bleedin' ciggies alone, ya git!"

Well versed in the martial arts, Throbbin' lunged forward and attacked with abandon, then took the band off, and attacked again, this time in the right direction.

After a short but violent struggle, Jimmy-Lee lay supine with the figure of Trobbin' straddling him like a lady of negotiable favours smelling a bonus - Throbbin' raised his razor sharp cigarette lighter for the killing blow, when Dude called from the Kangamobile:

"I think we got us a problem, mate......."

"DUDEZAN AND THE ZOMBIES!"

(OR: HOW TO RUIN YOUR COUNTRIES REPUTATION AS A LAND OF TWO FISTED MEN OF ACTION!!)

(OR:LET ME APOLOGIESE IN ADVANCE FOR WHAT IS TO FOLLOW!!)

IN WHICH DUDEZAN BATTLES VARIOUS NEFARIOUS DENIZENS OF DARKNESS WTH THE HELP OF DANBOMAN JIM(SORRY SIR JIM) AND OTHERS!! NOT TO MENTION BADGERS NINJA PRAIREI DOGS AND ASSORTED INDIGENUOS FAUNA!!

AND WITH MUSICAL INTERLUDES!!!!!

LADIES OF A NERVOUS DISPOSITOIN NEED RAED NO FURTHER AS DOING SO COULD LEAD TO AN ATTACK OF THE VAPOURS....SMELLING SALTS AVAILABLE

PART THE FIRST:

WITH BINOCULARS PRESSED TO HS EYES,DUDEZAN STOOD ON A HILL OVERLOOKING THE TOWN BELOW.........

COMPLETELY OVERLOOKING IT AS HE WAS FACING IN THE WRONG DIRECTION!!

ONCE HE HAD HIS BEARINGS HE GAZED BELOW

DOWN IN THE VALLEY LAY THE TOWN OF "TOUCHAMAWILLIE" FROM AN ABORIGINAL WORD MEANING ..."I HAVE JUST SEEN CHRISTINE AGUALIRA IN ONE OF HER SKIMPY COSTUMES AND WOULD LIKE  FEW MINUTES ALONE"..NEXT TO HIM STOOD DENNIS THE WANDERING MINSTRAL

DENNIS:WELL WHAT DO YOU SEE?

DUDEZAN:IT LOOKS LIKE AN INFESTATION ALLRIGHT.......ZOMBIES!!

"OH BOY"!!SAID DENNIS "I HAVE COME ALL THE WAY FROM ENGLAND TO SING THE PRAISES OF THE GREAT DUDEZAN AND HIS EPIC BATTLE WITH THE ZOMBIES, LET ME TUNE UP MY LUTE"

SUNG TO THE TUNE OF.."YESTERDAY":

"YESTERDAY,IS THE DAY THAT COMES BEFORE TODAY"

"AND THE DAY THAT COMES AFTER THE DAY BEFORE"

"OH IM CONFUSED BY YESTERDAY"

"SUDDENLY,MEANS THAT SOMETHING HAPPENED QUICKLY"

"AND PROBABLY WAS QUITE SCARY"

"I NEED A PLACE TO HIDE AWAY"

"WHY SHE HAD TO GO I DONT KNOW AND I DONT CARE"

"SHE WAS SUCH A BITCH NOW IM GLAD THAT SHES NOT HERE"

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!!?"...DUDEZAN EXCLAIMED!!!

"JUST TUNING UP REPLIED DENNIS"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?

DUDEZAN LOOKED DOWN AT THE TOWN,"YEEES... DOWN THERE MUST BE THE QUEEN ZOMBIE, LAYING HER EGGS SOMEWHERE UNDER THE TOWN"

DENNIS LOOKED PUZZLED.."ER .....QUEEN ZOMBIE????...WHAT THE HELLAREYOU TALKING ABOUT?? I THOUGHT THEY WERE DEAD PEOPLE,BOUGHT BACK TO LIFE BY VOODOO"

"THIS IS AUSTRALIA MATE!!!,WE DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY HERE.BUT I CANT DO THS ALONE I WILL HAVE TO CALL MY ANIMAL FREINDS FOR HELP THIS IS GOING TO BE QUITE A JOB, STAND BACK!!!

DUEZAN RAISED HIS HANDS TO HIS FACE AND YELLED A MIGHTY CALL,IT ROARED OVER THE LAND ECHOING OVER CLIFFS,SPREADING LIKE A WALL OF SOUND OVER THE LANDSCAPE, AS IT DIED DOWN DENNIS SPOKE EXCITEDLY

"OH BOY THIS CALLS FOR A SONG!!!!"

SUNG TO THE TUNE OF "GREENSLEEVES"

"OH DUDEZAN, HE IS THE MAN,A HERO BRAVE AND TRUE"

"BUT IF HE GOES AND STUFFS THIS UP THEN WE ARE ALL IN THE POO"

"DEATH AWAITS IN NASTY WAYS TO GET OUR HERO STUCK'

AND IF HE FAILS IN HIS QUEST THEN WE ARE WELL AND TRULY F..........

"SHHHHHHHHH, THERES SOMETHING IN THE BUSHES!" DUDEZAN WHISPERED

THE NEARBY BUSHES PARTED AND OUT STEPPED...................................TWO WALLABIES AND A PLATYPUS....

"what!!!thats it!!!!!"....CREID DENNIS.....THATS ALL YOUCAN MUSTER?

"ITS NOT MY FAULT,WE DONT HAVE VERY MANY BIG ANIMALS IN AUSTRALIA!!"

"TO RIGHT MATE!!!"SAID A DISSAPOINTED DENNIS "WHAT, NO LIONS,NO TIGERSNO ELEPHANTS?"

"NO"

DENNIS:"NO RHINOS,NO JAGUARS,NO MOUNTAIN LIONS????"

"NO"

"WELL...WHAT DO YOU HAVE?????"..........

DUDEZAN:"..............WELL........WE HAVE PARROTS........AND ECHIDNAS"

DENNIS:PARROTS,FLIPPIN PARROTS WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH PARROTS WALLABIES AND PLATPUSES...GORDEN BENNETT..... I CAME ALL THE WAY HERE FOR THIS!!!!??

"HANG ON A MNUTE",SHOUTED DUDEZAN.."THE PLATYPUS HASA POISON SPUR AND CAN PARALIZE.....

PARALIZE,PARALIZE WHAT?...THOSE ZOMBIES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD....YOU CANT KILL SOMETHING THATS DEAD,BESIDES,THAT LITTLE THING LOOKS LIKE IT WOULD BE HARD PRESSED TRYING TO STOP FROM BEING SQUASHED!!!!

DUDEZAN:WALLABIES CAN DISSEMBOWEL,THEY HAVE POWERFUL LEGS!!!!!

DENNIS:THOSE BLOODY THINGS ARE TWO FEET TALL..WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO DISSEMBOWEL A  KNEECAP!!

DUDEZAN: "RIGHT THATS IT!!!...PUT EM UP"

DENNIS:"WHOA BIG FELLA JUST KIDDING .ER ...IM A  LOVER NOT A FIGHTER"

DUDEZAN:IHOPE YOU AND YOUR RIGHT HAND ARE HAPPY TOGETHER.......ANYWAY WERE GOING TO NEED HELP

DUDEZAN PULLED OUT HIS MOBILE PHONE AND STARTED DILLING,HE DIALLED FIVE NUMBERS BEFORE HE REALISED

"waiT a minute..... THERES NO SUCH THING AS INTERNATIONAL RESCUE!!!!!!.

HE DIALLED AGAIN..........."JIM..YEAH....ITS ANOTHER INFESTATION.....WERE GOING TO NEED THE BADGERS...AND CALL DANBOMAN......I KNOW THEY ARE STILL EXPERIMENTAL BUT ITS TIME FOR.........THE NINJA PRARIE DOGS!!...DUDEZAN PUT AWAY HIS PHONE

 

DOWN IN THE TOWN BELOW THE ZOMBIES STIRRED IN THE MORNING LIGHT

 

Edited by dude

Jim, aka: Throbbin', begins the task of gathering the Ninja Prairie Dogs and transporting them to the zombie site.

Using his Prairie Dog Sex Gland Flavored cigarette's Throbbin' leads the hormonally charged beasts, enchanted by the wafting smoke to the transport vehicle. Tripping over his flouncing feather boa, Jim plows head long into the piles of dingo dung (a natural Herbal blend) next to the carrier, rendering his arms immobile, his mind temporarily stunned and his superheroes kilt wrapped about his head.

The lead Prairie Dog, aroused and engorged, takes full advantage of the earstwhile superheroes exposed gluttious maximus.  

Distinguished and officious, the masters of commercial ceremony prize their corner office windows but fail to take in the view. A lone middle-manager repents and reads Bukowski instead of the pages of projections that pile up in his "IN" box. "Zombies and sheep," he repeats over and over, tracing the outline of pigeon droppings dripping down the other side of his panoramic pane.

Scattered cadres scheme and dream of their glorious overthrow, though infrequent recruiting and paranoid secrecy damn them to the half life of the less lucid lurkers. Numbers one through six alone used to know each others' names...slowly growing disillusioned, they begin to refer to the new members as "zombies and sheep". Funding is provided by an heiress with insurgent pretentions and somewhat indiscriminate carnal appetites; you can apply for a missionary position as long as you're a revolutionary with no erectile dysfunction. If you wish to build a skyscraping utopia, you must depend on long, strong girders as much as the flexibility of the proletariat.

The subsidized farmer and herdsman is unconcerned; his recently emptied pastures are a source of mystery, but little threat to his welfare. Or so he thinks. A community college course in animal husbandry can only prepare you for so much. The parish veterinarian is more distraught; he sends samples to a laboratory for analysis but unfortunately has chosen a research institute crafted by a 50s B-movie enthusiast. Electrodes and oscilloscopes abound. The scientist throws a switch that resembles a cubist's door-knocker, and declares the mutton rancid. Back at home the vet wrings his hands as yet another milkcow gets the blues.

One Night Only! shouts the poster that is fading to cataract blue. The performer couldn't be more ignored if the seats were facing the exits. His avant-garten sonics fall upon def ears. Taking a page from the ancient gallery, he begins to verbally abuse the urban contemporary crowd. "Zombies!" he taunts. "Sheep!"

Off in the distance, a disembodied wail greets the rising of a sullen sun. Leaden industrial skies glimpse the shortening shadows of hollow-eyed buildings. A quick eye can catch the furtive forms as they scuttle from one alleyway to the next, desperate to avoid capture- or worse.

Late night has as always turned into bleary morning for the revellers as they stammer, attempting to seem imperious as they hail their drivers. From fermented fellowships the sotted sodden solitary dandies, wags, roustabouts and iconoclasts splinter and one by one begin the semi-conscious ride to soft beds or squatter sofas. Several do not relish the anticipated spousal rebuke.

Something stirs that should never have been born, let alone reborn.