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1.2

      So, anyways...

      Oh yeah. The zombie was going to eat my Raisin Brans (not Raisin Bran, it's an off type cereal that's a lot cheaper). Figuring since he was a Bran eating zombie, instead of the Brain eating kind, I opted to help him pour the milk. "Here, let me-" I said, taking the milk from his hands, but he pulled it away and groaned as if he were objecting. "Can you understand me?" I asked.

      He grunted and nodded, but still held the milk away. "You're a damn proud voodoo zombie. Did you ever think about how you were going to get the cereal in your mouth even though it's all sewn up?"

      He was silent for a moment, and his head drooped sadly. "Well," I said, grabbing my jacket off the back of one of my kitchen table chairs. I dug a small pair of Ladybug safety scissors out, and went to work carefully cutting the small threads of what I could only assume was some kind of super-thread, "Here. Want me to do your eyes too?"

      "Yes, if you would, kind lad." He said after a moment of jaw flexing and tongue waggling.

      And damn me to Hell if the zombie didn't have the most perfect English I had ever heard in my life. It was a moment before I could bring myself from that very thought to cut the thread from his eyes. I'll have to tell you the story behind those godlike scissors later, because I swear that they have saved my life more times than I can count.

      So, after I got the zombie's eye's opened, and he adjusted to the light of the room, he poured himself a bowl of Raisin Brans, and had a seat at my kitchen table. "So..." I started awkwardly, "You're not going to eat me, or anything, are you?"

      The zombie chuckled before taking a spoonful of Raisin Brans to his mouth. "No, quite the contrary!" he said, more cheerfully than I had heard many a perfectly peppy person point out. "You have saved me from possible death, my young friend. I owe you my Un-life."

      Un-life, a term you'll get more accustomed to hearing as the story progresses. At this point in my life, I already knew what Un-life was, so I should probably tell that story next.

      "Oh." I said, watching him hungrily devour my cereal. "What's your name?" I asked. It was the proper thing to do, after all. I did invite him in AND save him from being shot by my neighbor. "I'm TJ, by the way. You can call me Teej, if you want, or not. I guess. Whatever."

      "Okay, TJ." The zombie said, smiling widely. A bit of milk dripped onto his chin, and he grabbed a napkin to wipe it away. "My name..." he started, lost in what appeared to be thought. "It, I... I can't recall!" He said, shocked.

      "Well... That's not a good thing, I guess." I stated. I had no fucking idea what else I could say. "What's the last thing you remember?"

      "Well... There was this extremely attractive lady in the video store..."

      I could already tell this was going to be one of those nights weeks.

Description
1.2

      So, anyways...

      Oh yeah. The zombie was going to eat my Raisin Brans (not Raisin Bran, it's an off type cereal that's a lot cheaper). Figuring since he was a Bran eating zombie, instead of the Brain eating kind, I opted to help him pour the milk. "Here, let me-" I said, taking the milk from his hands, but he pulled it away and groaned as if he were objecting. "Can you understand me?" I asked.

      He grunted and nodded, but still held the milk away. "You're a damn proud voodoo zombie. Did you ever think about how you were going to get the cereal in your mouth even though it's all sewn up?"

      He was silent for a moment, and his head drooped sadly. "Well," I said, grabbing my jacket off the back of one of my kitchen table chairs. I dug a small pair of Ladybug safety scissors out, and went to work carefully cutting the small threads of what I could only assume was some kind of super-thread, "Here. Want me to do your eyes too?"

      "Yes, if you would, kind lad." He said after a moment of jaw flexing and tongue waggling.

      And damn me to Hell if the zombie didn't have the most perfect English I had ever heard in my life. It was a moment before I could bring myself from that very thought to cut the thread from his eyes. I'll have to tell you the story behind those godlike scissors later, because I swear that they have saved my life more times than I can count.

      So, after I got the zombie's eye's opened, and he adjusted to the light of the room, he poured himself a bowl of Raisin Brans, and had a seat at my kitchen table. "So..." I started awkwardly, "You're not going to eat me, or anything, are you?"

      The zombie chuckled before taking a spoonful of Raisin Brans to his mouth. "No, quite the contrary!" he said, more cheerfully than I had heard many a perfectly peppy person point out. "You have saved me from possible death, my young friend. I owe you my Un-life."

      Un-life, a term you'll get more accustomed to hearing as the story progresses. At this point in my life, I already knew what Un-life was, so I should probably tell that story next.

      "Oh." I said, watching him hungrily devour my cereal. "What's your name?" I asked. It was the proper thing to do, after all. I did invite him in AND save him from being shot by my neighbor. "I'm TJ, by the way. You can call me Teej, if you want, or not. I guess. Whatever."

      "Okay, TJ." The zombie said, smiling widely. A bit of milk dripped onto his chin, and he grabbed a napkin to wipe it away. "My name..." he started, lost in what appeared to be thought. "It, I... I can't recall!" He said, shocked.

      "Well... That's not a good thing, I guess." I stated. I had no fucking idea what else I could say. "What's the last thing you remember?"

      "Well... There was this extremely attractive lady in the video store..."

      I could already tell this was going to be one of those nights weeks.