The Universe's Mixer

Flicking her lighter on and off, Jo emerged from the alleyway as the sun was just beginning to set. Her truck was far, far away, with her shotgun handy in her other hand, the barrel tilted downwards. That was all she needed beyond her father's knife tucked in a sheath in her back pocket. Glancing behind her and then to the lighter taking up all of her attention, Jo looked for the tell-tale sign of the oil barrel she had left outside. The zombies would be out soon, and hopefully, with all the people she had scared away, the place was deserted and she would not be arrested for accidentally murdering someone by blowing up practically the whole facility full of the undead. At least, that was hopefully going to be the plan.

Her boots echoing on the sidewalk in the abandoned warehouse-esque district she was in, Jo sighed and watched the alley. She had brought back Dick to her house to get him cleaned up. She didn't know if he was still there, even if a small part of her wished he was. She had been half busy looking up more classified ads to get her a job and actively going to those jobs to see if she could get a spot. The landlord had pretty much threatened to kick her out if she couldn't get a means of income. One job was going to get back to her, apparently. She wasn't going back to bar-tending again. That had been enough after some green gigantic thing had practically torn her last job to splinters, leaving it in rubble with multiple patron cars just a hunk of metal. No way was she going to invite that to happen again.

Flame on, flame off, the lighter flickered to life before dying. Just one spark was all she needed in order to get the needed results. Hopefully those undead buggers wouldn't notice a thing when they woke up. It wasn't like they could smell anything beyond human flesh, and that was mainly because that's what they ate when they didn't infect other people. Jo hated those things, mainly because parts of them went missing quite often, and it was horrid to look at. Spying the oil drum, Jo put the lighter away in her pocket and used her father's knife to poke a hole before picking it up. Grunting, she muttered something about the ones being inside the warehouses being a lot easier to pick up because they had handles. Heaving it onto its side before dropping it, Jo kicked the oil drum down the alley, following after it as it rolled and spun and got stuck.

A few seconds later, a zombie had emerged from the end of the alley, taken one look at the oil drum, then at Jo, and had gotten hungry. Stopping and turning around, the other exit from the warehouse was opening. Jo turned to look back and closed her eyes. "Crap." Hefting her shotgun, Jo began to run, shoving anything and everything out of her way until she slid onto the outside street. Fumbling with the lighter in her pocket, Jo nearly dropped it before she noticed how much lighter fluid she had left. Hopefully it would be enough. Igniting the flame and tossing it into the alley, Jo turned and ran as fast as she could to avoid the blast that suddenly rocked a whole city block.

"I hate zombies!

Karen had been sitting at her desk in her new job at the Ghostbuster's firehouse safety place, doing her nails (not that it really did anything to do file them anymore) and thinking about different ways that she could re-instate her habits. The only way to really go about it, she'd determined, was to find a small child, kidnap it from it's parents, chain it in a basement somewhere, and feed it lots of jello and drugs. Or maybe drugged jello.

It was then that the big shake came.

It literally moved the earth and jostled her out of her chair. She wasn't drunk, so she couldn't blame her lack of balance on that. And she wasn't high, so she couldn't convince herself that it was some sort of auditory hallucination.

The fact that she couldn't write it off made her even more upset. She really didn't like to have to deal with things.

Sighing, Karen sniffed. The boss was out of the building. So she stood up and wandered outside. The sight she got made her eyes go wide.

"Good god! It's Marlo Thomas come to kill us all!"

It couldn't be helped.

Oh there was to have been a wait.

But she didn't like it, the City had said. A cat way too smart, a giant brain in its head.

So another one it would be, no waiting this time.

The cat was snatched up, and would be taken care of in due time.

No knife or gun to be used on this cat.

That's a little excessive; now who would do that.

Pushing into traffic or dropped from a floor.

If it doesn't work the first, we'll try something more.

C'mon little kitty, c'mon let's play.....


















[no cats were REAALLY harmed during this thread... no. REALLY.]

"This isn't right. My trajectory is all off. Computer? Computer, calculate relative velocity to previous position," Jake voiced to the computer interface of his spacecraft.

The computer made a few beeps and blinked a few lights. Jake nudged a few dials with his paws to check on the readout. This couldn't be happening. He was way off course! He couldn't even calculate the position of his Mother Ship.

"This is Zunar J5/9 Doric 4-7 contacting Mother Ship. Mother, do you copy?"

"This is M-- ther-- ip -- come --n Zunar J5/-- Dor-- even -- You're breakki-- upp."

"Mother Ship, your transmission is cutting out. Transmit on frequency Alpha Bravo Two Three Five Dash Seven, over."

"Can't trans-- bravo delta -- off course -- Zunar, copy--"

The static was making it almost impossible for Jake to decipher the voice on the other end of the frequency. His collar glowed as he mentally tried to find a frequency that would allow him to come in clearer, but he was quickly distracted by a flashing red light on the center of his control console.
( WARNING! )