Christmas is upon us and we are already seeing the marketing and commercialism bellowing out loud that everything on earth is now readily available for this happy time of love, peace, and joy. Well, there is another season suddenly bestowing its bloody hand on our proverbial shoulder, looming in the shadows, but not as brightly lit. The season of these barely standing, decomposing, angry (and very hungry), walking, grunting, petulant, moss-covered, rag-bag, previously alive (presently restored), unwelcome visitors called the walking dead.
You may have seen them in a deluge of films on television or from your own personal collection, especially during this time when the Lord of the Dead loosed the demons upon the earth for one night of demonic debauchery to terrorize the living and to make them face their worst fears face to face with relentless torment, showing the living, especially the faithless, the unmitigated power evil has in its supernatural form over mortal man.
These sometimes slow-moving cadavers in various shades of blue attack the living as a serious product of their new diet without recompense or chance of redemption for in their present predicament, have no soul, merely an empty shell of a vessel in a brainless onslaught for food. Funny how being shot in the head (or brain) seems to be the only means to stop them when there’s supposedly nothing going on up there anyway.
Nonetheless, the folklore continues and the legend lives on. Don’t be too overly concerned about these rabid rotting rascals though, for the simple reason that you can pack a Roscoe (or two), load up on ammo, and send out for pizza and engage in a real life shooting gallery just for the sport of it. If you do come across any of the demons however, you will find your firing implements rendered moot. And if the Lord of the dead himself makes a grand appearance, well then…I strongly suggest you do not participate in worldly escapades any longer, but pray for the dead to stay dead (or at least to die again), and tell that double horned thin winged devil to go back to the hell from whence it came. If you do come across any of those gut grabbing, organ munching pig dogs from the grave, tell them zombie season’s over…and wabbit season’s here!