Hat Trick

I've never been particularly fond of hats. They tend to mess up my hair and aren't particularly fashionable in any context other than sporting events or funerals.

The day before yesterday though I managed to pull a little trick out of one. It began in Mitchem Mall in Vinetown. I'd considered doing a little scouting around to see what I could find in the suburb when I stumbled upon Droopliss sleeping peacefully in the north west corner. I left him a little note thanking him for sparing my life back in that junkyard in Pimbank when he found me as a zombie and wandered off looking for...well do I need to say it?

Whatever it was, I found it in Caunt Street PD. Two zombies had shambled in from the warming streets and had started to feast. I sat down and watched for a while, taking reading a magazine article about the Columbine Kids. At last I saw a decent opportunity.

DeathLemur, a scared pureblood zombie had been cruelly revived and in his confusion, ran into the PD. The poor thing was nearly dead.



And so, I sent him back to his zetheren.



The zombies had been working hard on their meals, but it would seem their eyes were bigger than their stomachs and they gave up on eating Darth Ozy 4th.

I decided to try and help him out. I grabbed my trusty rubber gloves and began to operate.



Unfortunately he died on the table, right after I'd performed a ketchupectomy.



A bit dejected I wandered northwards. I considered going back to the mall to hang with Droopliss but I'm not fond of backtracking, besides I had new and unfinished business in Pitneybank.

Ah but I simply could not resist this before wandering off:


And so I slept quite soundly in one of the buildings in northern Vinetown, pleased with my Hat Trick and wondering what tomorrow would bring.

I awoke ready to travel and restock. On my way to the police station, I ran into a friend of a friend.

DeadHead17 knew Chrisman. In fact, I believe the two are related. I thought it was only polite to drop in and pay him a visit.





He even got a lovely photograph out of it. However, it would seem he wasn't too pleased with my dropping in unannounced. I think I'll keep all these delicious muffins and send him a canned vegetables hamper instead.

Down the Beckoning Streets of Opportunity

Those of you who have been following this log will have noticed all the signs of itchy feet. I am easily enticed to seek out new places and to find new faces to shoot.

I began this mission with strict purpose to deter individuals from killing at revive points. I've still done quite a bit of that. But along the way, there have been quite a few chances I've been simply unable to pass up.

Yesterday one of those landed in my lap. I was sitting in an auto-repair shop in West Grayside, bored out of my mind and considering moving north again to see what fun could be found in Roftwood. After an eager and youthful scout popped in and informed us all that there was a "small horde" two blocks north eastish, I knew I couldn't stand to spend the night in this place, knowing that the young ones around would run away at the hint of danger or stay locked away, ignorant of the RRF and their brutal "no prisoners" methods. I decided to make a move north eastward when I stumbled upon an Auto repair shop that was barely barricaded. After little deliberation I decided that I would hang out for a while and watch the 'cades. See if they would come down at all. Hey, action is action.

So I nodded off. When I awoke, I found a zombie had broken in and infected me.



As I had expected, Bobnik was an RRF zombie. If you'll remember correctly, I offered my services to them over in Roftwood only to be taken to near death later on by the same organization. If this is an indication of how they treat their allies, one can only assume they dispatch with those that would oppose them with doubled hostility.

So, with little trepidation I killed Bobnik.



I felt worse for dumping him, knowing that he'd have to work through the barricades again to get a meal. On the bright side, he didn't get a headshot. So better me than that Unintelligent fellow. Although, that single action earned me a valuable new skill:



Poor Dr Occult didn't stand much of a chance faced against the RRF. His survival rate was less than zero now though.


I see it as a mercy killing. He copped a bullet before he could be shredded to pieces by the hungry hordes ready outside. I don't think he'll thank me for it though. Bob knows Samuel 034 didn't. Nor did Chrisman17. Come to think of it, no one has thanked me. What a bunch of ungrateful bastards. Someone should really teach them some manners...Oh wait...

So, I added two more individuals to the "ungrateful dead" list. Still nursing my infection and bleeding all over the place, I wandered off into the darkened streets in search of first aid.

I'm thinking Pimbank might be more fun the second...er...third? Time around. Especially now that I can diagnose the extent of an injury at a glance.

Banana Republican

I've been in West Grayside for a couple days now. It seems like a pleasant suburb. I stopped by Pole Mall the day before yesterday and stayed the night. When I awoke I noticed a friend had left his calling card. Fancy running into Mister LeGrande again! I am loving South Central Malton!

Anyhow, after a little picking through the mall and finding nada, I decided to take a bite out of yet another friend through secretive channels, The Dancing Banana. He tasted a little funny though.



But you see, like cows, bananas can be spooked. All it takes is the wrong sort of music and BAM! You've got yourself a sour banana. I followed a faint tinny sound to a sleeping young man by the name of Cobra13.



Obnoxious technology. Ipods are becoming much like cellphones and those horrid ring tones.

So I shot him.



And promptly dispatched with the horrible din.

Alas I have no bananas today. But I did manage to find a foe.

Ming the Merciless was begging me to take him on. Unfortunately for him, his bark was worse than his bite.



Alas, we have no Ming The Merciless today.



And so another villain falls upon the heap of decomposing biomatter to seek out the flesh of the living or perchance to join the queues forming in the streets that seek life once more.

This could be a whole new career move for him though.