Go West, Young Zombie!

Have they moved Halloween to April? I've been getting some pretty weird emails thin month. Sure, I hear from a few freaks and head cases every month, but April has been decidedly strange. This week I'll be offering advice to a young lad who may have called forth the zombie apocalypse we've all been hearing about. Let's see how it all turns out.

Oh yeah, before we get to that, I should mention that I've gotten into the occasional legal scrape in the past, so my lawyer says that I have to tell you some boring legal stuff. I hate that guy!Here's the deal:

I'm not your therapist. In fact I'm not a therapist at all. I am not licensed and never went to college. Hell, they won't even give me a fishing license; you think they're going to give me unfettered access to antipsychotic meds? I only do this column to amuse myself at your expense.

Follow any advice you find here at your own peril. I just make this shit up as I go along, people. Read it all you want. Bookmark it, share it, whatever; but if you're dumb enough to actually take my advice, you deserve whatever you get.

Go West, Young Zombie

Dear B.T.,
I was digging around in my attic the other day and I came across an old book. It was handwritten in some language I've never seen before, and bound in some kind of weird leather. It was also covered in what looked suspiciously like razor stubble.

I opened the book to a page somewhere in the middle and tried to read it. I sounded out as many words as I could, but it just read like a bunch of gibberish to me. I was just about to start on the next page, when there was a knock at my front door. Well, it was pretty dank and spooky up there in the attic, so that knock scared me pretty bad. If fact I peed myself a little bit and dropped the book right in the puddle. That book was so old and dried out that it soaked up all that pee and the ink ran together. Guess I'll never get to read the ending now.

I stumbled to the door to see who was knocking, and it was my Uncle Stan. He looked awful, which is not surprising since he died about 8 months ago. I didn't know what else to do, so I invited him in for coffee; but he just kinda stood there with a vacant look (and some bits of mold) in his eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, the old bastard bit me right on the neck! I mean, what the hell was that all about?
I punched Uncle Stan in the face and his head kinda fell off a little. He crumpled to the ground, twitched a few times, then just sort of laid there. What the hell is going on, B.T.? Should I be worried?
I gotta wrap this up because I don't feel too good right now, and I still need to re-bury Uncle Stan. I'll check back in a few days.

Dead Man Walking- Pahrump, NV

Dear Dead Man,
This is the classic good news/bad news scenario. The bad news is that I suspect your book is the infamous Malleus Maleficarum, or possibly even the Necronomicon. By reading some passages aloud, you appear to have inadvertently started some kind of zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, since you peed on it and ruined the ink, you'll never find the right spell to reverse what you've done.

The good news is that you probably have nothing to worry about. By the sound of it, you won't be around to witness the outcome. Lucky you! As a matter of fact, since it's been a few days since your question landed in my inbox, I suspect you've already died, returned, and begun to feast upon your family who are, in turn, probably eating the dog or the neighbors as I write this. Way to go!

If there is anybody left in Pahrump to read this, I do have a couple of suggestions to offer. First, run outside and shout "Klaatu Barada Nikto!" as loud as you can. I saw that in a movie once and it worked for that guy, so it's worth a try. If you happen to have a Harry Potter costume lying around, put it on. I don't know if that will help, but it should look funny as hell! Be sure to send me some pics if you survive.

If that doesn't work, you're going to have to set the town ablaze and try to herd the zombies toward the west. Once they reach California, they're someone else's problem, right? With any luck at all, they'll get lost wandering through Death Valley. The way I see it, worst case scenario is that they'll make it all the way to LA, where they'll fit right in.

As you probably already know, any stragglers can be easily dispatched by removing their head. If you've ever watched a zombie movie, you know they're clumsy as hell and possess very little strength; so knocking off a head or two should be no biggie. Why not make a game of it? What a great idea for family night!
Of course there's a silver lining here. The upside to all of this is that I live a little more than 2,000 miles away, so I will be mostly unaffected. I know you were probably concerned for my safety. Thanks!
Best of luck!