Over One Billion Served
"Can I go back to the butcher shop now?”
“No way,” said Justin Famous, sternly reprimanding the wimp. “You remember your deal.”
“This deal gets worse all the time.” muttered Jason.
The zombie dinosaurs drew ever closer. The Mad Hatter heaved the Kill Hammer into a battle stance and readied himself for the coming onslaught. The situation looked bad.
His eyes shifting from side to side, Ben knew that now was the time to think very quickly. Ben scanned his surroundings, desperately searching for some weapon of vast destructive potential that they could use. Suddenly he spied some rusting de-commissioned construction vehicles. There, rusted and yet still mighty, was a large crane and wrecking ball and a bulldozer. A spark of inspiration ignited inside the fifty-five gallon drum of crude oil that was his brain. He had a keen idea.
A broad smile spread across Ben’s face, and he clicked his fingers together, ostensibly to signify that he had had a realization.
“I’ve got it!’ said Ben, racing over to the construction vehicles. “We’ve got metal on our side!”
Everyone looked at him bewildered.
“Don’t you see? We can bring the steel to life!” exclaimed Ben, who was already donning a pair of tinted welding goggles and igniting his acetylene torch.
“He’s right!” echoed Drew, attaching the arc clamps to the bulldozer and grabbing a dirty cardboard box marked Giant Spikes. “It’s a given! You always have triumphant victory when you bring the steel to life! It’s scientifically proven!”
“Be swift!” hollered The Mad Hatter. “We have barely any time before they’re right on top of us!”
Using their welding skills acquired during the long hours of high-school shop class, they proceeded to swiftly customize the vehicles with large sharp metal pieces and spikes. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking.
“Ben. Finish. Now.” said The Mad Hatter
“I can’t!” yelled Ben. “It isn’t keen enough yet! There aren’t enough strange in-jokes and references!”
“What are you talking about?!” yelled the Hatter. Allen, in his curiosity piqued after viewing the scene from his cabin window, came outside from his trombone practice to offer a few pointers. Finally, they were ready.
“So how much’re you guys getting paid for all o’ this?” asked Allen, unfolding a lawn chair to watch the ensuing bloodbath of zombie dinosaur butchery.
“Nothing. This is revenge,” said The Mad Hatter, a crazed glimmer in his eyes. “Their death is our reward.”
Man on the street interview: “The Public’s Reaction to the Zombie Dinosaur Crisis” Number Two. Interview courtesy of the Boston Globe.
Eric Todd, senior city news correspondent: Excuse me sir? Eric Todd, Boston Globe, do you have any comments about the recent zombie dinosaur attack?
Man on the street: Howard?
Eric Todd: I’m sorry?
Man on the street: C’mere.
Eric Todd: I’m sorry. I don’t follow you.
Man on the street: When I tell you to hide a body in the marsh, you hide the goddamn body in the mash! Clear?
Man on the street: You want some coke?
Eric: Ted let’s get out of here.
End of interview.
Flash of Iron! Leather! Spikes! And Swords!
After a lightening-fast round of rock, paper, and scissors, it was determined that The Mad Hatter would pilot the wrecking ball and Ben was the man for the bulldozer, and Drew would take on the front loader. As a zombie triceratops bellowed and flung a large Dodge Dart into the air with its savage horns, two keys simultaneously entered their respective ignitions and the engines of destruction roared to life.
“From Hell’s heart I stabeth thee!” yelled The Mad Hatter, having just read Moby Dick.
“Kill the tyrants!” screamed Drew through the smog of diesel fumes, apparently quite pumped about the whole event.
“Lightning strikes in the dark!” howled Ben, for no discernable reason.
“It’s okay for a man to cry!” shouted Peter Fury, revving his chainsaw.
And so the battle began.
The wrecking ball swung and threw a cluster of zombies into the air. When they landed back in the dusty junkyard, Justin Famous and Peter Fury were quick to dismember them. Fifty-nine zombies ran towards the crane, hungry for the Hatter’s flesh, but were obliterated underneath its enormous tread.
Putting his Oxford GBX sneakers to the floor, Ben sped the bulldozer towards the triceratops with reckless abandon. He had not counted upon that the ancient zombie dinosaur was still incredibly strong. The beast lowered its head and blocked the crash with its skull crest. Digging its foul feet into the dirt, the monstrosity pushed back with devastating force. The treads squealed and spewed turf into the air. Ben bit his lower lip, as he is apt to do in uncomfortable situations and tried to break the deadlock.
And it was at that moment, many miles away in Lebanon, New Hampshire, that Smokey Belicose wondered whether he ought to rent Enter the Dragon again. He had seen it before, but he had been thinking about the final fight scene and was wondering how they did it without the camera showing up in any of those mirrors.
At precisely the same time, Drew had found somewhere a cash of Operation: Desert Storm-era weapons, and hoisted a large automatic assault rifle to his shoulder, snarling while he sprayed bullets. Tearing out the pin with his teeth, he tossed a grenade into the oncoming horde and leapt behind a large Toyota to avoid being showered in body-parts. Mary the Mistress of Madness was using her crazy cyborg-powers to fumble around blindly. Justin Famous, Peter Fury, and Carvin’ Zachariah Kervin had let their powers combine and held off the undead fiends at bay with chainsaw, cleavers, and buzzsaw-blades. Even Jason Cage fought pretty well, using his Ivy league intellect to confuse and belittle the enemy. Allen had gone inside to get his cowboy hat, knowing full well that the experience could not be properly enjoyed without his cowboy hat.
The battle waged on. The Mad Hatter had wrapped the brontosaurus’s neck in the chain, and (yanking back the lever) swung the dinosaur into a pile of compacted Audis. Ben tried to maneuver himself out of the deadlock with the frenzied triceratops, but found it was impossible. Suddenly: disaster! Drew’s front loader was knocked over by the spiked tail of the ghoulish stegosaurus. Like an alioop from long ago the brontosaurus belched a huge fireball onto Drew’s vehicle, igniting it instantly. However, much like in those old GI Joe cartoons everybody clearly saw Drew get out safely right before it exploded. Cornered and having fired all his bullet into the air to emphasis his one liners, all seemed lost for the Tough Noun.
The earth began to rumble and the ground shook. A filthy, unusual looking vehicle emerged from the sandy soil. Behind the driver’s seat was Baxter Black, spitting out sod from his mouth and laughing like crazed maniac.
“Baxter Black says GO TO HELL!” exclaimed Baxter Black. A colossal chain-saw like blade emerged from the vehicle and cut deep into the stegosaur, with vile black blood spurting everywhere. The kinetic (or perhaps potential) energy behind the collision flipped the vehicle, but only after the stegosaurus had received it’s deathblow.
“It’s a ditch-witch! I found it in the sewers! I figured it’d come in handy” said Baxter Black. Clearly he was thrilled to have driven what was essentially a giant chainsaw on wheels, and apparently unaware that he'd been missing for months, into a zombie dinosaur. by complete chance.
Only a few hundred feet away, Ben’s eyebrows twitched in terror. The stalemate was breaking, only the triceratops had the advantage. The beast’s awesome power proved more potent than the engine of the bulldozer, and the great steel plow-blade was slowly being bent. Ben thought of the rolling Green Mountains. He thought of Stop Making Sense and what a good album that was. In an instant, he knew that he had to take decisive action.
Shoving a lever up, the plow-blade lifted. Caroteneous-spikes grinded against steel, as the triceratops (unable to understand Ben’s simple yet effective plan with its puny dinosaur brain), continued to press forward. Sweat dribbled down Ben’s brow. He had to time this just right. The bulldozer shook violently as the once-deceased dinosaur rammed the construction vehicle again and again. Ben waited a millisecond longer and then snapped the lever back down. The plow-blade fell heavily upon the dinosaur’s neck, roughly slicing into it’s head. The fierce red glow vacated the creature’s eyes and black slime poured from its gaping beak-like mouth. Ben scratched his head and flipped a pencil around in his hand. He had won. But then faster then Ben could have imagined the long dead giant reptile rose again and charged the side of Ben’s Bulldozer. But then faster the the long dead giant reptile could have imagined Ben pulled out a handgun and shot the creature in the eye.
“Has anybody tried just shooting them?” Exclaimed Ben, slightly disappointed. “That’s seems to pretty much do the trick.”
With the zombies almost entirely devastated, everyone’s attention was turned to the brontosaurus. With its flame breath, it had fused the wrecking ball and chain to the crane’s tower, rendering it worthless. With The Mad Hatter’s swift maneuvering however, he had impaled the monster upon the tower, but this would not stop it. Justin Famous hacked with his cleavers at the tree-trunk size legs, but it was to avail. The hunters re-doubled their efforts and fought back. Ruling the night! Winning the Fight! TAKING IT ALL RIGHT TO THE EDGE! The Mad Hatter grabbed hold of its rough scaly hide and jumped from the cockpit of the crane. He scaled the dinosaur’s body as it ran about trying to roast valiant zombie hunters with its flame breath. Finally reaching its head, The Mad Hatter raised the Kill Hammer. It took him a long time because the Kill Hammer is really really heavy.
“And so I cast forth my spear thy damned dino!” yelled the Hatter in a melodious, baritone voice unheard of since the days of Tom Lehrer. The Kill Hammer fell and struck right through the enormous skull of the brontosaurus. The Hatter gasped as he was struck by blobs of brain. The brontosaurs let loose a final fire-laced roar and fell like a stone to the ground. The Mad Hatter grinned as he slid off the thing and hit his head on a long abandoned Kia Sonata.
“You’re Prehistory!” said Ben.
“Brutal!” said Baxter Black. “We saved Boston!”
“If not the whole East Coast.” pointed out Drew.
“I think I have to go to the hospital.” Slurred Chico “Please stop calling me The Mad Hatter” Eastridge
“Warm-blooded.” Said Drew.
The sound of metal scraping against metal was heard. With a sickening thud, a large Chevrolet van fell to the ground as the brontosaurus rose up. Things were not yet over.