Luckily, I found out about a zombie pub crawl planned for my neck of the woods before I could accidentally stumble upon it. Cripes, can you imagine the carnage that would have resulted? Me slamming my car into a crowd of "undead" before leaping out and laying waste to even more would-be revelers with the zombie killin' kit I keep in the trunk?
I, of course, will not be attending.
- I hate the smell of make-up.
- Who the hell drinks on Roosevelt Road, anyway? I've been hanging out on Madison Street for twenty years.
- It would be like asking a Viet Nam vet with PTSD to party with a bunch of Viet Cong cosplayers.
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