I knew a zombie once. He was a good guy, a little on the quiet side, prone to chewing his own fingers. "Arg," I would say, because that's what I called him, Arg. "Arg, what is it about you and feasting on human flesh? Is it really all that? Have you tried burgers?"
But Arg would just stare at me with his one good eye and drool. Because he was a zombie. I learned a lot from Arg over the years, but mainly that you can't expect conversation out of a renanimated corpse. They really do just want to eat brains.
This year I'm hearing a lot of talk out of World Z-Day Preparedness Center that we have better cures than ever, and there might not even be a zombie apocalypse. Blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. I say, get ready for waves of the undead.
That's just a guess. I'm going on instinct here. But sometime around this, I reckon you may want to look out for shamblers.
Zombie apocalypse begins in: