Zombie Apocalypse Goes Unnoticed
Dave had had a rough night.
Sensational news as evidence comes to light that a zombie apocalypse tore through the country on the night of 31st October. Despite scenes of unimaginable depravity and chaos, somehow, it went entirely unnoticed for a period of several hours. Questions were inevitably raised as to how it’s possible for such a catastrophic lapse in collective concentration to take place, leaving a veritable omelette on the faces of emergency services.
Trouble started brewing at 5.07pm from within the bizarre brutalist maze that surrounds Waterloo station. Footage from one of the sixteen thousand CCTV cameras in the area has come to light, showing a man, scruffily dressed in what amounted to no more than rags for clothes, caked in blood and emitting blood-curdling screeching noises, being routinely ignored by the public, bar the odd tossing of a copper coin in his direction or shout of ‘Get a job.’ That was until one Japanese tourist took the fateful decision to try and capture a holiday selfie with what he had assumed to be a mentally ill homeless man. Just as he went to make the peace sign, his joy quickly turned to horror as the figure unexpectedly took the man’s gonads between his teeth, tugging on them ferociously until they were torn clean from his body and consumed in a frenzy of bloodied semen.
From there, the infection spread like wildfire. Unfortunately, the main symptoms at this early stage consisted of a vacant expression, dead eyes and incessant moaning, leading to a complete lack of alarm from bystanders who simply assumed that a standard Wednesday evening commute was taking place around them. Using South Western Railways as a route to spread its evil tentacles, the apocalypse was then delayed by several hours due to a signal failure at Vauxhall, before finally spreading to the suburbs of south west London at a reduced running speed.
German citizen Albrecht Fleischesser, in the country to apologise for the war, watched in bemused ignorance as an innocent young woman had her face ripped from her skull by a crazed undead.
“Ya, I remember it vividly, but naturally I thought it was a case of some crazy British drinking getting out of hand and that zis girl had pulled an absolute munter with ze kissing technique of enraged piranha. Zerefore, her screams were simply screams of sexual ecstasy, ze saucy little bratwurst.”
He wasn’t the only one to woefully misinterpret the potential annihilation of the fabric of society. Gretchen Chindance of Chessington survived the ordeal by having no idea that it was happening in the first place and staying indoors watching reruns of ‘Pointless Celebrities’.
“Sure yeah, I saw some people being eaten when I looked out of the window, but I assumed that it was just kids from the estate letting off some steam so I didn’t think anything of it. It’s best not to get involved.”
In fact, later analysis on the viral-borne contagion revealed that young adults are particularly vulnerable. So, although there were vast hordes of hunched figures, hanging around stations, shuffling listlessly, emitting incomprehensible groans and thirsty for blood, no-one had batted an eyelid as there was no way of distinguishing them from any other group of teenagers.
By early Thursday morning, much of London had been reduced to barren wasteland, blood, puke, and faeces smeared as far as the eye could see. It was initially believed that Croydon and Feltham had been worst affected, but on closer examination, a comparison with previous photos of the area showed that they had, in fact, escaped completely unharmed.
One lady in New Malden, Ethel Fartknocker, actually answered the door to a flesh-eating hoard, before remarking “Oooooh don’t you look nice.” and sending them on their merry way with a fun-size Mars Bar each and a packet of Haribo tangfastics to share out equally amongst themselves.
Little did Miss. Fartknocker know, but a fortunate coincidence was to prove the catalyst for preventing further tragedy rampaging across the land when it transpired that the virus is killed by the rapid ingestion of vast amounts of a low-grade, sugar-based gelatinous substances. Two and two were finally put together when the authorities also cottoned on to the fact that the plague was seemingly unable to spread further north than Watford. Frantic investigation eventually revealed that the pervasive and erroneous belief of the inhabitants that fruit pastilles count towards your five-a-day had acted as a kind of nutritional moat to the infection, keeping it at bay and thus saving the lives of countless ferrets and prize-winning racing pigeons.
The speedy and surreptitious distribution of gooey jellied parcels among the masses was eventually organised, just in time, by a beleaguered MI5, restoring the ghoulish affected to normality and thereby bringing an end to an unsavoury incident that could have proved the death knell for a country already on its knees from self-inflicted idiocy.
