On Friday, the twelfth of December, I fell victim to a gross miscarriage of justice. I was causing no harm, simply carrying a lunch tray of nachos back to my seat, when I came upon a stunning development. There was no salt.
I frantically dashed around the cafeteria, searching desperately. I could see no glimmer of shaker. The civilians to my right and left totally ignored me.
As I broke into a sweat, I begged, "Please, spare some salt?" When that received no response, I threatened, "I will kill you and rip out your tear ducts for the precious sodium chloride hidden therein!" It was to no avail. There simply was no salt to be had.
I went back to my seat, and it was there that I had a thought, nay, a realization. The lunchladies had purposely withheld my precious seasoning. They were out to do me in. And not just I, but all of mankind! These nefarious cafeteria employees sought to dominate the very cosmos!
Luckily for me, my intrepid companion Jessie somehow infiltrated the deep recesses of what the less-informed might call a "school kitchen." (Those of us who are privy to the truth know it to be more of an evil poison-producing laboratory of sorts.) As I fought back the onslaught of spice-deprived zombies that marched ever forward, she battled the unspeakable horrors within the mazes of cupboards and refrigeration devices.
Onward came the monsters, and as they shuffled, they groaned and wheedled, "No...need...salt. Salt bad; brains gooooood. Brains, nachos best plain!"
"Blasphemy!" I cried, but even as my lips uttered the word I could feel my mind grow foggy with the power of their black magic. Fear not, though, my dear readers, for your courageous heroine is made of stronger stuff than that. I leapt valiantly forward and drove the fiends back, back to the depths of Hell from whence they came. I fought like a berserker and by the grace of some unseen force emerged unscathed.
It was at this precise moment that my dear compatriot Jessie emerged from the vile pits of the cookery. She was some the worse for wear, but clutched in her hand was our prize: a vial of the purest snowy grains of salty goodness.
Gallant and victorious, my faithful ally and I marched home, triumphantly bearing the fruits (or minerals, rather) of our labor. Jessie was treated and sent back to her cave to live, and I was given a due hero's welcome and immediately crowned Queen-and-All-High-Supreme-Ruler.
The peasants, dear little things, are well on their way to completing my seventh palace. It should be ready come Christmastime, and if it is not, heads will be harvested. In the meantime, feel free to pay me your tributes in return for my not attacking your pitiful kingdoms.
You may call me Zombieslayer.
I frantically dashed around the cafeteria, searching desperately. I could see no glimmer of shaker. The civilians to my right and left totally ignored me.
As I broke into a sweat, I begged, "Please, spare some salt?" When that received no response, I threatened, "I will kill you and rip out your tear ducts for the precious sodium chloride hidden therein!" It was to no avail. There simply was no salt to be had.
I went back to my seat, and it was there that I had a thought, nay, a realization. The lunchladies had purposely withheld my precious seasoning. They were out to do me in. And not just I, but all of mankind! These nefarious cafeteria employees sought to dominate the very cosmos!
Luckily for me, my intrepid companion Jessie somehow infiltrated the deep recesses of what the less-informed might call a "school kitchen." (Those of us who are privy to the truth know it to be more of an evil poison-producing laboratory of sorts.) As I fought back the onslaught of spice-deprived zombies that marched ever forward, she battled the unspeakable horrors within the mazes of cupboards and refrigeration devices.
Onward came the monsters, and as they shuffled, they groaned and wheedled, "No...need...salt. Salt bad; brains gooooood. Brains, nachos best plain!"
"Blasphemy!" I cried, but even as my lips uttered the word I could feel my mind grow foggy with the power of their black magic. Fear not, though, my dear readers, for your courageous heroine is made of stronger stuff than that. I leapt valiantly forward and drove the fiends back, back to the depths of Hell from whence they came. I fought like a berserker and by the grace of some unseen force emerged unscathed.
It was at this precise moment that my dear compatriot Jessie emerged from the vile pits of the cookery. She was some the worse for wear, but clutched in her hand was our prize: a vial of the purest snowy grains of salty goodness.
Gallant and victorious, my faithful ally and I marched home, triumphantly bearing the fruits (or minerals, rather) of our labor. Jessie was treated and sent back to her cave to live, and I was given a due hero's welcome and immediately crowned Queen-and-All-High-Supreme-Ruler.
The peasants, dear little things, are well on their way to completing my seventh palace. It should be ready come Christmastime, and if it is not, heads will be harvested. In the meantime, feel free to pay me your tributes in return for my not attacking your pitiful kingdoms.
You may call me Zombieslayer.
posted by Allison at
7:27 PM
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