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>Craziness on Westwood Ave
>Hey everyone, hope your day wasn’t as nuts as mine! Stick with me, you gotta hear this one and I need to ask you guys a favour.
Me and my lady are looking for a new home. Call us lazy, we just don’t want to have to fix our broken windows and the stray cats are really starting to get on our nerves. So I spoke to my buddy in real estate and I hear about some amazing properties on Westwood Avenue. Tells me to go check them out quick, folks are gonna be grabbing them up in no time.
Anyways, I get down to the street around late afternoon. I’m a bit of a slow walker if I tell the truth. Sun still up and so I was able to get a look at this one building in particular. Windows broken but boards hammered up. No risk of strays, right? Pfft.
I take notice of the garden (wife loves plants) and I shuffle on in, wanting to see what’s what. Gotta say there’s a lot of space to work with for any green thumb. Quiet street too. When this area’s seen a sweep from pest control, it’s gonna be a sure choice, remember that. I wouldn’t advise it any time soon though and I’ll tell you why.
I’m checking out the sunflowers planted beside the main path, thinking the lady’s gonna be super happy with them, when this feral crazy comes bursting out, howling and waving around a shovel. Total madness in those eyes! Well, first thing I do is tell the jerk to get lost. Too busy to deal with it, you know? But these types, they never listen, do they?
He comes rushing at me with his damn shovel and almost takes my head off! Somebody somewhere must like me ‘cause he got the thing stuck in the soil at my side instead. As he’s yanking on the shovel and I’m reeling a little, a group of local residents turn up in the garden, having heard the ruckus.
You, my buddies, are the best. I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you guys hadn’t turned up. Everybody knows how long it takes Enforcers to show.
This asshole didn’t stand a chance after the cavalry marched in. We had him pinned in a flash. That idiot won’t be ambushing any more peaceful citizens, I can tell you. Once it was over, I just had to make friends with my heroes.
We had freakin’ awesome meal after that, didn’t we? I’m bad at remembering names, my brain isn’t what it used to be, but I think it was Brian, Emma, Gerald, Dakota, and Madison? If any of you are reading this, please send me a message, the wife really wants to meet and thank you. She’s in a mess over the whole thing.
And there’s something else… I didn’t think much on how close a shave it was when we were all chowing down. Meat was surprisingly good and conversation was ace. I haven’t laughed as hard as that since the Turn. But I was about to make my way home after saying my goodbyes when I looked down at my foot and saw what the feral had actually done.
My toes are missing! My right foot! ‘Course I searched the garden, even poked about the carcass to see if they’d somehow got stuck in the leftovers. Couldn’t find ‘em. My new friends were already off home, otherwise I’m sure they’d have helped.
Now you get why the wife is hysterical. She’s this minute ranting about these roaming Breathers and I gotta say, she ain’t wrong. I get that the Enforcers are doing their best to round up the strays and put them in the breeding camps but a zombie should feel secure when slouching about our streets, you know?
I’m not accusing any of my rescuers: who wants to eat another Walker’s toes? You’d need to be a real freak for that! I just wanna get in touch for friendship’s sake and also ask if any of you found even a pinkie toe? Forgot to swap numbers. Wife says I need to get some more grey matter into my diet or I’ll never remember where I’m going.
If anyone is on the avenue, can you check number 450’s front lawn? Be careful, ‘course, but there’s $20 for each toe you find. Message me with a photo. It costs way more for donor surgery and we’re not financially secure enough for that.
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