The Undead States of America
"Are we there yet?" The kid asked while I kept my eyes on the road. "No," I replied. This has been going on for three whole hours.
Three...fucking mind numbing...hours...
Parker had "persuaded" me to let the kid stay with us, and now I'm driving a golf cart on the way to Sleazebag's garage with him right next to me.
"So," I said, trying to get the kid to stop saying "are we there yet" before I shot his brains out, "Did your house get invaded by zombies?"
"No," he replied, "I invited them in. So... Are we there yet?"
We arrived at the dome shaped garage building. I turned to the little brat and looked at him in the eyes. "Stay, brat," I commanded. "This 'brat' has a name, ya know," he replied. "My name is Buck." "And I'm the guy who doesn't fucking care," I commented. I went into the garage and the inside was completely trashed. The table was flipped upside down, the chairs were scattered everywhere and there was a dead dog in the corner.
"So, you've come for my brain, eh?" I heard a rough voice cry out. "No, Sleazebag," I replied. "My brain is working just fine." That was the password to show that we were humans looking for something to buy. "Gabriel, my boy!" He came out of the darkness with his arms wide open. He was a tall, muscular, bald man with two robotic arms and only one eye. The left eye was eaten by a zombie while he was camping out in the woods.
"You got the goods?" he asked. "You got the toys?" I replied, throwing ten wallets loading with money onto the floor. He hurriedly picked up the dough and ran into the darkness, coming out moments later with at least eight AK47s. "You sure that you want to give one of these to a kid?" he asked.
I was confused, but then horror flashed across my face and I turned around to see Buck standing there with his pale skin shining in the darkness. His grey hair was sticking out like a sore thumb, too. "Buck! Get your ass back in the cart!" I commanded, and he pounced on me. I must have either been off guard, or this kid was the spawn of Chuck Norris.
We eventually got back home and I unloaded the guns into my backpack. "You're mean," Buck commented. "You're a retarded jackass," I replied. "You're the one that pushed me off the cart!"
"You're the one that wouldn't shut the fuck up!"
"You're the one that wouldn't answer my question!"
"I don't know why the fucking sky is blue and not purple!"
"Bitch ass!" he replied, and with that, he kicked me in my two little friends.
You win this round, Spawn of Chuck Norris...