Dawn Of The Canadians
MrsNekoJeans
Published
11/28/2010
It was so unecspected. Everybody knew Canadianism could only be contracted within the contamination zone. Not many decided to traverse the cursed lands of Canadia, fearing the living dead. Or was it a different type of fright? The fear of becoming one of them.
Jack never liked to cross the Canadian border. He knew of the risk. But he had to feed his family. The drugs, maple syrup and beavers were free in Canadia. American drug dealers, diabetics and beaver afficionados payed good money. Things were going pretty easy today. Almost... too easy.
He stopped his car for a drink. It was the middle of the road, surrounded by a forest. No sign of the infected. A glass of whiskey was what he needed right now in this cold, cursed land. He was about to start the engine, when he heard the awful, whining noise. He knew it well. It was the zombie. "Obaaaaamaaaa.... Obamaaaaaa" - the sound was getting stronger. He knew how people who were suffering from Canadianism always whine about the American politics. The engine didn't want to start. He knew what was coming to him. But maybe he's one of the select few immune to the disease. He kept thinking about that and about his family. Some people are immune to Canadianism - they have the virus or are even born from Canadian parents, but they don't show any symptoms of the illness. They can laugh normally, they don't whore for attention, they can make friends, they don't nag, don't care about politics. They have lives. Jack hoped to turn out one of the Daywalkers. He wasn't so lucky.
"How long have we been trapped in this mall?" Margaret asked herself. Two? Three weeks? The place was a dead end. No help coming from anywhere. Surrounded by the living dead. The Canadians. How could this happen? It was only possible to catch Canadianism in Canadia. Now if they bite you, you'll turn to one of them. Maybe Billy's plan wasn't so stupid after all?
Billy was waiting for his friends at the door. "Obaaaaamaaa.... health system in Canada is great, you should learn thaaaaat...." - whining of a thousand voices made his body shiver. When he saw Margaret, he smiled. She decided to go with them. They prepared their chainsaws.
"We must cut through them! We must do it fast! Make sure you're wearing thick clothes, so if they bite you, you can't become one of them." But they all knew that. Billy's words were only for comfort. The door opened. Chainsaws started to cut through flesh. But they didn't know everything about Canadianism. It gave powers to people suffering from the illness. Super lumberjack powers. They knew how to handle the chainsaws better than anybody on the planet. It took four, maybe five seconds to disarm the Americans.
The end.
Jack never liked to cross the Canadian border. He knew of the risk. But he had to feed his family. The drugs, maple syrup and beavers were free in Canadia. American drug dealers, diabetics and beaver afficionados payed good money. Things were going pretty easy today. Almost... too easy.
He stopped his car for a drink. It was the middle of the road, surrounded by a forest. No sign of the infected. A glass of whiskey was what he needed right now in this cold, cursed land. He was about to start the engine, when he heard the awful, whining noise. He knew it well. It was the zombie. "Obaaaaamaaaa.... Obamaaaaaa" - the sound was getting stronger. He knew how people who were suffering from Canadianism always whine about the American politics. The engine didn't want to start. He knew what was coming to him. But maybe he's one of the select few immune to the disease. He kept thinking about that and about his family. Some people are immune to Canadianism - they have the virus or are even born from Canadian parents, but they don't show any symptoms of the illness. They can laugh normally, they don't whore for attention, they can make friends, they don't nag, don't care about politics. They have lives. Jack hoped to turn out one of the Daywalkers. He wasn't so lucky.
"How long have we been trapped in this mall?" Margaret asked herself. Two? Three weeks? The place was a dead end. No help coming from anywhere. Surrounded by the living dead. The Canadians. How could this happen? It was only possible to catch Canadianism in Canadia. Now if they bite you, you'll turn to one of them. Maybe Billy's plan wasn't so stupid after all?
Billy was waiting for his friends at the door. "Obaaaaamaaa.... health system in Canada is great, you should learn thaaaaat...." - whining of a thousand voices made his body shiver. When he saw Margaret, he smiled. She decided to go with them. They prepared their chainsaws.
"We must cut through them! We must do it fast! Make sure you're wearing thick clothes, so if they bite you, you can't become one of them." But they all knew that. Billy's words were only for comfort. The door opened. Chainsaws started to cut through flesh. But they didn't know everything about Canadianism. It gave powers to people suffering from the illness. Super lumberjack powers. They knew how to handle the chainsaws better than anybody on the planet. It took four, maybe five seconds to disarm the Americans.
The end.
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