Zombies 3 Quotes

Roses are red, violets are blue, I have five fingers, the middle one is for you.

The guy just stood there. Hello. There’re zombies everywhere. Try looking behind you, douche canoe.

1. Organize before they rise! 2. They feel no fear, why should you? 3. Use your head: cut off theirs. 4. Blades don't need reloading. 5. Ideal protection = tight clothes, short hair. 6. Get up the staircase, then destroy it. 7. Get out of the car, get onto the bike. 8. Keep moving, keep low, keep quiet, keep alert! 9. No place is safe, only safer. 10. The zombie may be gone, but the threat lives on.

So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?

Do not enter, closed for repairs, zombies will eat your face if you try to touch this vagina.

My Zombie Ate Your Honor Student

They sat on the back porch and looked at the stars while Zombie told the story of a queen named Cassiopeia who lived forever on a throne in the sky. “But her throne’s tilted down,” Sam said, looking at the constellation. “Won’t she fall out?” Zombie cleared his throat. “She won’t fall. Her throne is turned that way so she can keep watch over her realm.” “What’s a realm?” Zombie pressed his hand against Sam’s chest. “This is.” Zombie’s hand to Sam’s heart. “Here.

Kayso, it turns out that driving an actual car is way harder than it is in 'Grand Theft Auto: Zombie Hooker Smackdown.

Roses are red Violets are blue Be very afraid We're coming for you.

You never explained the change of heart." "Maybe I got tired of seeing Kevin bend. Or maybe it was the zombies. A few weeks back you and Renee argued contingency plans for a zombie apocalypse. She said she'd focus on survivors. You said you'd go back for some of us. Five of us. You weren't counting Abby or Coach. Since you trust Renee to handle the rest of the team, I'm guessing the last spot is for Dobson. I didn't say anything then because I knew I'd look out for only me when the world went to hell. I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to go back for you.

You arrogant...” thrust through the stomach of a snapping zombie, twisting and using all my strength to cleave him in half “... over published...” wasn't going to work, it clawed at the blade, and my God, these things were tough, “...showy old bat...” Crack! There went my head into the wall. If I didn't have a split skull, I'd be amazed. “What are you waiting for? Aren't you the king of all bogeymen? The legend children fear will devour them if they don't behave?” “Come on, Vlad, live up to your reputation! If you can't burn to death one Egyptian vampire chained to a wall, how did you ever drive the Turks from Romania?” “You did it!” “Of course, I'm Vlad Tepesh, what did you expect?

I put the fun in funeral.

She pictured herself running from a hoard of ravenous zombies on a hot day eventually collapsing from heatstroke and getting devoured. Then she imagined Hal giving a rousing eulogy at her funeral explaining how Kendra's death was a beautiful sacrifice allowing the noble zombies to live on delighting future generations by mindlessly trying to eat them. With her luck it could totally happen.

So hell, maybe we just killed the last grizzly in the world. I'd feel bad about that if it hadn't been an infected zombie bear that wanted to eat my delicious flesh.

Gavin has started calling you the queen of zombie hearts,” Cole said. “And you know what, he’s right. It fits. Before you, I wasn’t really living. I was existing. Moving from girl to girl. Killing zombies. I was as good as dead, but you brought me back to life. And you are most definitely the queen of my heart.

I agree with you. Now let’s put on our big-girl panties and go convince Mr. Always Right that he’s seriously wrong.

Let’s play a little game I like to call Cole’s in Charge and Ali’s Not.

Yo! Deadheads," he yelled, waving his sword to taunt them. "Nice try, but you're messing with Benny-freaking-Imura, zombie killer. Booyah!

Knox, I think we need to buy a small island, " she said, picking up a pocketknife. A small island? Knox turned towards her taking the knife out of her hand. 'Yes' diamond nodded enthusiastically. 'Did you know that you can buy small islands? They're kind of expensive, but if we save, we could buy one in a few years'. ' diamond....' Knox started to say something, but closed his mouth. 'Why an island?' "Because zombies can't swim

She rises on her toes and kisses his cheek. "You know what I'm gonna say now." Zombie smiles. "He'll be fine, Cassie." He grabs her hand and squeezes hard. "With my life." Her response is immediate and fierce. "Not with your life, Parish. With your death.

Dead bodies are calm and silent—perfectly still, perfectly harmless. A corpse will never move, it will never laugh, and it will never judge. A corpse will never shout at you, hit you, or leave you. Far away from the zombies and junk that you see on TV, a corpse is actually the perfect friend. The perfect pet. I feel more comfortable with them than I do with real people.

There was one thing no one considered, however: Australia was populated by Australians. While the rest of us were trying to adapt to a world that suddenly seemed bent on eradicating the human race, the Australians had been dealing with a hostile environment for centuries. They looked upon our zombie apocalypse, and they were not impressed.

So you owe me.” “Exactly. I pay in kisses.” “Good thing I accept that currency.

I'm usually a big fan of sexual tension, but this is like an X-rated kindergarten class, with two little jerks crushing on each other, both too stupid to admit it out loud.

We need to put your sister in a glass case like Snow White,” Colonel Hamilton said, his arms crossed. He was monitoring the radio chatter from the deck of a gunboat. “With a sign on it that says ‘Break in the event of a zombie apocalypse.’

Zombies are all fun and games until they’re standing right in front of you.

There's always more than one interpretation," Orion said from the doorway. Everyone turned to look at him as he came back into the library. "Face it. The Fates speak in riddles because they don't know what the hell they're talking about. If they did, they'd say something straightforward like, 'Orion is the Tyrant and he wants to eat your brains for breakfast' or whatever." Hector's shoulders started bouncing up and down with silent laughter. Lucas turned his head away and tried to stuff down a laugh of his own, but he made the mistake of catching Jason's eye. "Zombie Tyrant," Jason whispered to Lucas, his face turning red with a repressed laugh. "Huzzah death," Lucas whispered back, cracking up. Apparently, that was some kind of inside joke between the Delos boys because all three of them busted out laughing.

That movie we saw tonight really freaked me out." Her brows rose incredulously. "I'm a ghost, you're a shape-shifter, you live with a cursed vampire, and a zombie movie freaked you out. Honey, I love you, but that's a bold-faced lie. What gives?

So, like, the master needed a hand, if you know what I mean, so I was like, "Oh chill, it's a stress thing, everyone does it. I'm flicking the bean under the table right now just to dial the tension back a little. Yes. Yes. Yes! Oh-zombie-jeebus-fuck-me-Simba-lion-king-hakuna-matata! Yes!" --The Chronicles of Abby Normal

―get a reward for surviving,” Kat was saying. “You can start by taking off all you clothes and―” “I don’t need to hear this, Miss Parker,” Mr. Ankh snapped. “―showering,” she finished. “Alone. Of course. I like my men clean.

And I know, sometimes storms were necessary. Even flowers needed to be watered. But... yeah.

So, yeah, I kind of wanted to claw her face off and spit in her skull. Graphic much? Straitlaced Ali piped up. Not graphic enough, Bloodthirsty Ali quipped. Hello, new personalities. So nice to meet you.

You know I think you hung the moon, right?” “Right. Just like I know you held the ladder and looked up my skirt.

Does Cole know you're made of ice?" "Yes. He likes to melt me.

It was like the day the stick turned pink, her lady bits put up a giant "Out of Business" sign. Do not enter, closed for repairs, zombies will eat your face if you try to touch this vagina.

Granny looked up at the zombie. He was - or, technically, had been - a tall, handsome man. He still was, only now he looked like someone who had walked through a room full of cobwebs. 'What's your name, dead man?' she said.

The website didn't say how much brains--or even how many--I should eat, only that I should eat them in 48 hours OR ELSE. Why doesn't anyone pay attention to details anymore? Would it be so hard to add a simple line like, BTW, Maddy, 3 pounds of brains per week is plenty? Seriously, am I the first new zombie ever to ask?

Well, if nothing else goes right during this mission, I can honestly say that I am fulfilling one of the dreams that every necromancer has–zombie pirates.

That was what separated us from the zombies.

So," Frosty said as we stood. "I have to ask a personal question, because our next move hinges on your answer." I tensed, unsure about what he could possibly want to know. "Ask." "How do you feel about stealing cars?

Wind moaned through the canyons like a chorus of zombies. I mentioned this to Blitzen, but he set me straight. 'No, kid,' he said. 'Norse zombies are called draugr. They move silently. You'd never hear them coming.' 'Thanks,' I said. 'That's a huge relief.

You're safe here. Perfectly safe. That phrase still haunts me. Haunts me because it's always been a lie. It was a lie before they came and it's still a lie. You're never perfectly safe. No human being on Earth ever is or ever was. To live is to risk your life, your heart, everything. Otherwise, you're just a walking corpse. You're a zombie.

Well,” she said, getting more comfortable, “Here’s what I’ve got so far. I’m going to college and getting a Ph.D. in being awesome. That’s a thing, right? Everyone will call me Dr. Kitten and pay me megabucks to diagnose all their problems. Because, of course, I will have all the answers.

Cole,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “I’m seconds away from bringing your penis into this conversation. Are you sure you want to stick around for that?” He sighed. “You’re about to threaten it, aren’t you?” A new round of laughter from the girls. “Threaten?” Kat shook her head. “No, darling Cole. Remove? Yes.

Another blond boy came tearing from the opposite direction. “Can’t find Smith. But I see you found my cupcake.” “Mine,” Cole snapped. Uh, was the cupcake supposed to be me? Because it was a weird nickname for a supposed enemy.

Fifteen Ways to Stay Alive 1. Offer the wolves your arm only from the elbow down. Leave tourniquet space. Do not offer them your calves. Do not offer them your side. Do not let them near your femoral artery, your jugular. Give them only your arm. 2. Wear chapstick when kissing the bomb. 3. Pretend you don’t know English. 4. Pretend you never met her. 5. Offer the bomb to the wolves. Offer the wolves to the zombies. 6. Only insert a clean knife into your chest. Rusty ones will cause tetanus. Or infection. 7. Don’t inhale. 8. Realize that this love was not your trainwreck, was not the truck that flattened you, was not your Waterloo, did not cause massive haemorrhaging from a rusty knife. That love is still to come. 9. Use a rusty knife to cut through most of the noose in a strategic place so that it breaks when your weight is on it. 10. Practice desperate pleas for attention, louder calls for help. Learn them in English, French, Spanish: May Day, Aidez-Moi, Ayúdame. 11. Don’t kiss trainwrecks. Don’t kiss knives. Don’t kiss. 12. Pretend you made up the zombies, and only superheroes exist. 13. Pretend there is no kryptonite. 14. Pretend there was no love so sweet that you would have died for it, pretend that it does not belong to someone else now, pretend like your heart depends on it because it does. Pretend there is no wreck — you watched the train go by and felt the air brush your face and that was it. Another train passing. You do not need trains. You can fly. You are a superhero. And there is no kryptonite. 15. Forget her name.

Yeah, but you’re a girl. The braver species.

Come on, Barbie. Please. Do it for your favorite cupcake.

...with that I turned into a punching, struggling, kicking psycho redneck zombie bitch.

You're never perfectly safe. No human being on Earth ever is or ever was. To live is to risk your life, your heart, everything. Otherwise, you're just a walking corpse. You're a zombie.

You familiar with prison rules, Ali-gator?" Stupid nicknames. They were the equivalent of verbal fungus. You couldn't ever get rid of them.

At least my balls are bigger than yours,” she sneered, shocking me. O-kay. Not so lost anymore. “You sure about that?" Gavin sneered right back, and I couldn’t be sure, but it kind of looked like he was fighting a…smile? “Take off your pants and show me.” “The only way I’ll ever take off my pants in your presence is to use the material to choke you to death.

if you can fight,fight,help each other, be prepared for anything.

I know girls want what they can’t have, and they want to be the special exception responsible for taming the boy no one else can, even though they probably won’t be.

Always blame the guy,” she said.

For the second time this week, I felt like Alice in Wonderland, about to fall down a pit, a new adventure forced upon me.

This is how the zombie apocalypse starts," Cas said. "You don't screw with death, yo!

When the world ends with zombies, it doesn’t suck to own a gun store.

The brighter the sunlight, the worse it affects them," said Einstein. "So we got to pay more attention to the weather forecast," said DogNut. "Cloudy with a chance of zombies.

Drunk people are basically zombies. Once they're infected, they want to take you down with them. Seriously, even my friends are like that, and we're supposed to be nerds.

He added, We knew it was going to be a big problem. You’ve got this guy with an army of upward of forty walking corpses that he acquired legally but was meant to bury a while back, it’s time for some hard conversations. He’s curing cancer, that’s great, but he’s bookended by two zombies that they’ve dressed in outfits, that’s bad. You’ve got a wizard out in the wop-wops who’s now got blanket bans from nearly every video upload site and a whole bunch of people have entered the country because of his YouTube channel, the government isn’t all, Love that small-business entrepreneur spirit. The government says, This is a cult.

There is a light that glimmers along the darkening edge of an infinite horizon. In that light the heart finds what the heart seeks. In that light, Dumbo goes where his beloved Zombie goes. In that light, a boy named Ben Parish finds his baby sister. In that light, Marika saves a little girl called Teacup. In that light promises are kept, dreams realized, time redeemed. And Zombie’s voice speeding Dumbo toward the light “You made it private. You found me.” No darkness slamming down. No endless fall into lightlessness. All was light when I felt Dumbo’s soul break the horizon. Lost, found, and all was light.

He never did get right all the way again. And every once in a while he'd come down all bitey.

Dude. Did you notice how many people were here? Tons!” Kat exclaimed. “I put the fun in funeral.

Please tell me you aren’t one of those people who subscribes to the ‘say something nice or stay silent’ philosophy.

I want my glasses." "No." The absent way he said it, as if she didn't have a choice, set off an odd shimmer in her bones. He regarded her soberly. "You're scared without them? More than being bound to a table?" "I'm trying not to think about bondage," she said grumpily. He grinned, swift and wonderful. "And yes, I'm scared. What if something happened, like a fire?" She wouldn't be able to find her way out. "Or a terrorist attack. Or zombies." He chuckled. "I do like submissives with imagination.

My story ended where so many stories have ended since the Rising: with a man—in this case, my adoptive brother and best friend, Shaun—holding a gun to the base of my skull as the virus in my blood betrayed me, transforming me from a thinking human being into something better suited to a horror movie.

He's a ghost, not a carnival magician. -Benny Imura

A zombie pretending to be a zombie pretending to be a zombie. Made me dizzy.

Workers who complained or died were turned into zombies, so labor unrest was never a problem.

I’m lost, Zombie.” “I’ll find you.” “I can’t move.” “I’ll carry you.

Dor wondered whether, if he should ever happen to be a ghost for eight hundred years, zombies might begin to look good to him. He doubted it.

I LEARN HOW TO GROW ZOMBIES

Aly hugging me, and me not hugging back, which was awkward beyond belief. I tried to wrap my arms around her but they collided in midair trying to find a place to settle, until my back plowed into the side of an open door. “Are you two all right?” Cass said. “Or is this Zombie Dance Night at the hospital?” Aly and I let go of each other. I could feel my face burning.

Fact: life is a giant classroom and every day is an opportunity to learn something new. Fact: you have to be prepared for pop quizzes, because they can come from anywhere or anyone. Also fact: I wished I'd called in sick today. What I learned from professor Frosty? How to properly boost cars. The guy could do wicked things with a single piece of wire. "I'm a criminal now," I lamented as we soared down the highway. Killing in self defense didn't count. "I'm an accomplice. A thief." "Actually," he said smoothly, "you're a freelance valet. All you're doing is moving a car from one location to another. There's nothing wrong with that, now, is there?

That’s it,’ Shelby said as they ran along behind Raven. ‘From now on no one’s dead until I read the autopsy report.’ ‘Such a report could be faked,’ Wing observed. ‘Hey, only people who haven’t come back from the grave get to have an opinion,’ Shelby said quickly. ‘So that counts you out, zombie boy.’ ‘Strictly speaking I am not a zombie since I did not actually die,’ Wing said. As usual it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not.

She's hurt and still imagines I'd worry about him for even a second ? I touch her shoulder. Her touch her shoulder. Her dark hair brushes the back of my hand. Her dark eyes shine. Their brightness goes all the way down. "You found me," she says. I kneel beside her. I take her hand. "I found you". "My back is broken,"she says. "I can't walk." I slide my arms beneath her. "I'll carry you".

Maybe Talon was secretly operating a chocolate factory," I joked, "because they discovered that making chocolate is much more rewarding than trying to take over everything" Riley snorted. "If they put something in the bars that turned all humans into mindless drones, I wouldn't put it past them," he replied. "But I doubt that's what happened here, Firebrand." "Okay, but if we run into chocolate-fueled zombies, you owe me dinner." "Always the zombies with you.

Don't you get it?' said Max. 'You're not praying, you're just... wishing. And wishes don't come true.

That’s why therapists are (were) some of the most screwed up people on the planet. It’s impossible to listen to that many people with that many problems and not begin to inherit more than your fair share of them. Just think about it.

Well, I just took a nap on an enchanting table. And when I did, I learned something very important. Enchanting tables are very, very uncomfortable. In other words, nothing happened. I feel like I’ve been scammed! I just want to be able to kick a zombie so hard it flies back thirty blocks. At least thirty. Is that too much to ask?! Hurrmmmph!

It all seems so worthless. Such a waste of lives. We've spent hundreds of years since the Return buffering the Dark City and trying to maintain it - scraping out a life that will soon be wiped out. And what of the rest of the world that's already fallen? Stars blinking away, their light slowly fading? Somewhere out there a star's just dying and we'll never know about it. Somewhere another's being born whose light we'll never see. The Earth will spin, the stars will rearrange themselves around one another and the world will crawl with the dead who one day will drop into nothing ness: no humans left for them to scent, no flesh for them to crave. Everything-all of us-will simply cease to be.

I’ve met gibbering horrors from other universes, been psychically entangled with a serial killer fish goddess, stalked by zombies, imprisoned by a megalomaniac billionaire, and I’ve even survived the attention of the Auditors (when I was young, foolish, and didn’t know any better). But I’ve never lost a classified file before, and I don’t ever want there to be a first time. I force myself to sit down

He had no illusions about surviving the battle, or any real conscious thought about the battle at all. Logic and rational thought had been shed like a killer's false smile, and all that remained was death.

We knew it was going to be a big problem. You’ve got this guy with an army of upward of forty walking corpses that he acquired legally but was meant to bury a while back, it’s time for some hard conversations. He’s curing cancer, that’s great, but he’s bookended by two zombies that they’ve dressed in outfits, that’s bad. You’ve got a wizard out in the wop-wops who’s now got blanket bans from nearly every video upload site and a whole bunch of people have entered the country because of his YouTube channel, the government isn’t all, Love that small-business entrepreneur spirit. The government says, This is a cult.

Nona felt very grave. “If you had asked me that yesterday,” she said, “I would have said, probably yes, because Honesty’s my friend, but—Hot Sauce shot me when she found out I was a zombie, so I’m out of the gang.” “Ah … children, they are very forgiving,” said the commander, proving to Nona she had never been around children. She said into her receiver: “The Messenger will tell you the street. Split us off and take us there.

A Knock On The Door They ask me if I've ever thought about the end of the world, and I say, "Come in, come in, let me give you some lunch, for God's sake." After a few bites it's the afterlife they want to talk about. "Ouch," I say, "did you see that grape leaf skeletonizer?" Then they're talking about redemption and the chosen few sitting right by His side. "Doing what?" I ask. "Just sitting?" I am surrounded by burned up zombies. "Let's have some lemon chiffon pie I bought yesterday at the 3 Dog Bakery." But they want to talk about my soul. I'm getting drowsy and see butterflies everywhere. "Would you gentlemen like to take a nap, I know I would." They stand and back away from me, out the door, walking toward my neighbors, a black cloud over their heads and they see nothing without end.

Shawshank’s good,” he says. “But you can’t beat the way Woody Harrelson kills zombies. He takes such joy in it.” “Uh-huh,” I say, making a face. “I’ve always found zombies to be the least threatening of the scary monsters. I mean, come on. They’re slow. They’re brain-dead. They don’t plot evil or try to take over the world. They just—” I put my arms out in front of me and give him my best zombie groan. I shake my head. “So not scary.” “But they just. Keep. Coming,” Christian says. “You can run, you can kill them, but more of them always pop up, and they never stop.” He shudders. “And they try to eat you, and if you get bitten, that’s it—you’re infected. You’re doomed to become a zombie yourself. End of story.” “Okay,” I concede, “they’re kind of scary,” and now I’m vaguely disappointed that we’re not here to watch a zombie movie.

Asimov’s “The Relativity of Wrong”:3 When people thought the earth was flat, they were wrong. When people thought the earth was spherical, they were wrong. But if you think that thinking the earth is spherical is just as wrong as thinking the earth is flat, then your view is wronger than both of them put together.

Stonecutter said, pushing him gently in the back. “No, I’ll go last,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said. “Someone has to trigger the TNT so that the monsters cannot follow, and that’s my job.” He could hear the moans of the zombies getting louder as they neared the top of the wall. “Stonecutter, I need you to look after my sister,” Gameknight said, pointing to Monet, who still stood at the top of the watchtower with Hunter and Stitcher. “Please … go get her and take her to a minecart. Carry her if you must, but make her safe.” The stocky NPC nodded his head, his stone-gray eyes staring back at Gameknight999 with confidence and

Oh, dear," Sophia said, looking through the binos. "What happens in the compartment, stays in the compartment. What happens in the...Oh, screw that!" "It's not his fault!" Lee Ann McGregor was just turned twelve and an orphan. Also extremely pregnant. She was shivering under a blanket in the relative cool of the saloon, drinking tomato soup as if it was nectar and arguing to spare the life of the young man sitting next to her. The hangdog young man in question, Kevin White, was seventeen. And currently surrounded by women who were looking at him like a zombie that was in their targeting reticle. Wisely, he was keeping his mouth shut.

It's just human, or inhuman, nature: People will find a way to make a big deal out of their differences-the smaller, the better. It reminded me of the Mantagues and the Capulets (if I wanted to think highbrow), or the Hatfields and the McCoys (if I wanted to go lowbrow)...or the Jets and the Sharks (if I happened to feel musical).

Slowly, he lifts the flashlight. Her shorts are torn and frayed, her shirt ripped from chest to naval, exposing her black bra and dirty stomach. And then he raises the light so it reflects off her face, off the crimson tears streaming from the girl’s eyes. Her boney hands fly up to protect her face, and her head tilts sharply as she hisses.

It is not by chance that there exists in Haiti the myth of the zombi, that is, of the living-dead, the man whose mind and soul have been stolen and who has been left only the ability to work… The history of colonization is the process of man’s general zombification. It is also the quest for a revitalizing salt capable of restring to man the use of his imagination and his culture

At the end of the vacation, I took a steamer alone from Wuhan back up through the Yangtze Gorges. The journey took three days. One morning, as I was leaning over the side, a gust of wind blew my hair loose and my hairpin fell into the river. A passenger with whom I had been chatting pointed to a tributary which joined the Yangtze just where we were passing, and told me a story.In 33 B.C., the emperor of China, in an attempt to appease the country's powerful northern neighbors, the Huns, decided to send a woman to marry the barbarian king. He made his selection from the portraits of the 3,000 concubines in his court, many of whom he had never seen. As she was for a barbarian, he selected the ugliest portrait, but on the day of her departure he discovered that the woman was in fact extremely beautiful. Her portrait was ugly because she had refused to bribe the court painter. The emperor ordered the artist to be executed, while the lady wept, sitting by a river, at having to leave her country to live among the barbarians. The wind carried away her hairpin and dropped it into the river as though it wanted to keep something of hers in her homeland. Later on, she killed herself. Legend had it that where her hairpin dropped, the river turned crystal clear, and became known as the Crystal River. My fellow passenger told me this was the tributary we were passing. With a grin, he declared: "Ah, bad omen! You might end up living in a foreign land and marrying a barbarian!" I smiled faintly at the traditional Chinese obsession about other races being 'barbarians," and wondered whether this lady of antiquity might not actually have been better off marrying the 'barbarian' king. She would at least be in daily contact with the grassland, the horses, and nature. With the Chinese emperor, she was living in a luxurious prison, without even a proper tree, which might enable the concubines to climb a wall and escape. I thought how we were like the frogs at the bottom of the well in the Chinese legend, who claimed that the sky was only as big as the round opening at the top of their well. I felt an intense and urgent desire to see the world. At the time I had never spoken with a foreigner, even though I was twenty-three, and had been an English language student for nearly two years. The only foreigners I had ever even set eyes on had been in Peking in 1972. A foreigner, one of the few 'friends of China," had come to my university once. It was a hot summer day and I was having a nap when a fellow student burst into our room and woke us all by shrieking: "A foreigner is here! Let's go and look at the foreigner!" Some of the others went, but I decided to stay and continue my snooze. I found the whole idea of gazing, zombie like rather ridiculous. Anyway, what was the point of staring if we were forbidden to open our mouths to him, even though he was a 'friend of China'? I had never even heard a foreigner speaking, except on one single Linguaphone record. When I started learning the language, I had borrowed the record and a phonograph, and listened to it at home in Meteorite Street. Some neighbors gathered in the courtyard, and said with their eyes wide open and their heads shaking, "What funny sounds!" They asked me to play the record over and over again.

The final entity was the beast. The steel juggernaut that raked claws made of screams along the bones of their soul.All of the pain that Jango had endured as a child had never left his mind. That pain had created a sort of primordial ooze in his fractured mind that sloshed and bled until the beast was birthed from the suffering. The beast lived in a cage forged of willpower deep in the recesses of the mad matrix of his splintered mind. It rattled the cage and roared for release, but he was loath to ever set the beast loose…again.

I ran my fingers around the interior of the skull getting the last few clumps of brain mater and sucked them from my fingers like icing from a mixing bowl. Desperately not wanting to wipe my mouth, I straightened and moved to the surviving gun man, crouched and did a quick pat down to make sure he didn't have another gun on him. No weapons but I did find a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his shirt pocket. Grinning down at him I pulled the cigarette out and stuck it between my bloody lips and lit it, even allowed myself one sweet drag. Just one, didn't want to waste too many brains. But damn the moment called for it. I was reformed but I'd never be perfect. And that was okay with me.

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