White_Chocolate Versus Zombies
White looked out the window. At first he thought he was imagining things. There was a bunch of zombies outside. By bunch, he meant at least 3 dozens, nothing he couldn't handle. The awkward thing was he was almost sure one of them was shouting"White! White!"
He looked at his bed where his two exhausted girlfriends were sleeping. "Lazy asses" he thought to himself scratching his 10 inch penis. And then it was again. "Did the fucking walking dead learn to speak my name?" White said and hurried to the window. It wasn't a zombie, there was a man waving his arms behind a fence on the other side of the street. Zombies were already swarming next to him. It wouldn't last more than 10 minutes, tops.
"Whi..!" the man didn't finish, a powerful fist landing on his temple. "Shut the hell up, moron! You're attracting the corpses." White Choco was furious. How can a man be so stupid and survive during the zombie epidemic? Didn't he know the basics of survival?
"Is it... are you...?" the man started. "Christiano Ronaldo" White ended. A joke he liked to use from time to time. He looked a bit like the gorgeous sportsman "Yeah, I'm White. Why are you looking for me? And how did you find me?" The stranger pulled himself up from the ground and replied with a smile "There's not many people here that have a Porsche Spyder parked outside their house." Yes, the Spyder. If the zombies were smart enough to pay attention to details like that, they would have already ganged up and found the Zombie Slayer, how people often called White. But they weren't and White knew that.
"Look what you did!" White said passing by the scared man. The fence popped open and the zombies came pouring in. White pulled out his two machetes and started his dance. It was terrifying and beautiful. He was cutting off parts of their bodies, defending from their blows and chopping off their heads in a ballet of flying body parts. It was amazing. It took him maybe 4 minutes to kill them all.
Before he asked the man why he was there, he began to speak. "White, please, a gang of evil people kidnapped my beautiful wife. We were living in a small community in a mall. I had my own taco stand before the zombie epidemic, I don't know how to fight..." White stopped him from talking "Did you say tacos?" The man nodded. "Man, do I fucking love tacos." White continued. "Tell you what, I figured you want me to go in there and save your wife. I don't need weapons or gas. I want some tacos. Mhhhh. The though of delicious tacos in my mouth. I save her and you give me a shit load of tacos. Do we have a deal?"
The man was happy to pay this small price. He would give tacos to White, the legendary warrior. He gave White Chocolate the location of the warehouse where the gang was hiding. It took White 5 minutes to get there with his Porsche Spyder and 3 minutes to kill all 9 villains with his bare hands. He kicked open the door to a closed room and there was a slim young latina tied to the chair. "I'm here because your husband said he'd give me some delicious tacos." The woman looked at him, startled "Christiano Ronaldo?" White grinned and replied "Close enough. I'm White Chocolate." She almost passed out. When she came to her senses, she said it would be an honor to sleep with him. "Can you prepare tacos?" White asked. "I ran a taco booth before this zombie hell." she replied. White nodded. "Okay, tell you what. You're hot enough, but you'll get the privilege of sleeping with me only if I'll like your tacos. This is how I roll."
White liked the tacos. He had 3 girlfriends nyao and was thinking about writing a book. Humanity deserved to read his biography.