Maybe it was the way the gooey entrails looked like strawberry laces coated in jam, or he supposed it could have been the fact that the stray eyeballs appeared to be squidgy marshmallows, but to him a zombie apocalypse wasn't as bad as it sounded.
Thank God he had collected all those samurai swords. Slicing up the mindless undead had never been so easy. Every spurt of blood made him giggle as the deadly blade cut through pale flesh in one clean sweep. He skipped through the viscera and gore, his mortal worries about getting his new trainers dirty long gone. This was the end of the world. He didn't care.
He didn't know if it was all the sugar in his system, the white crystals that were causing his pancreas to throb from overload, that was making him act like this. Who knew that sugar and blood was such a volatile combination? If he had to guess, he would say it was either the glucose that was currently poisoning his veins or that zombie movie marathon he had watched the night before. He knew he shouldn't have bared witness to such things – he knew! And now look at him: charging around like a madman, drool dripping down his chin whilst he slashed away at the formerly deceased and wiped the blood from his face.
In the distance, he heard the faint sound of some pop band. Glancing over, he identified the source as a car radio, the door of the smoking vehicle swung open in an inviting manner. Dashing over, he peeked inside, finding nothing but an emaciated, brainless corpse and enough blood to repaint his entire college dorm.
A tap on the shoulder blade prompted him to turn around. Arms outstretched, the expressionless, jawless and eyeless zombie lumbered towards him. A grin grew upon his lips as he pulled the living dead towards him and lead a jaunty waltz around the now flaming car. There was a pause. His eyes went to the limp tongue dangling from the zombie's mouth. It bared a striking resemblance to a chewable sweet.
Gosh. He was hungry.
With a swift slice, the oozing tongue fell into his hand, its liquid centre spilling into his palm. The moment it touched his taste buds, he felt a bitter sting shiver through his body. Spitting the slimy false sweet onto the ground, he heaved up a sickly sweet sludge. His eyes watered and his throat burned.
The zombie who had deceived him zoned in, gripping onto his shoulders and shaking him. Suddenly filled with a strong fire, he pushed the undead from himself and into the car. He must have hit a sweet spot because the vehicle exploded into flames, engulfing him like a giant would swallow down a mere tic tac. And now he lived in the belly of the blazing beast, burnt to nothing but a fried potato chip. It was a shame: he had always believed he would make a great brainless monster.