Choose Your Own Blogventure: The Sequel

Today is Choose Your Own Blogventure Day! But you shouldn't start here, as this is a middle section of the story. Start at Nancy Pearl Wannabe and click your way through your choices until you get here the right way. Enjoy!

“FINE,” Shelley snapped, brushing stray popcorn kernels off her shirt. “Let’s go, then.” 

“Good choice,” Aaron replied smugly. As he turned to open the door for Shelley he heard her mumbling something under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Dude, I will leave your ass here if you don’t tell me what you’re muttering about.”

“I was just observing that maybe you should spend less time thinking about zombies and more time keeping up with your blog. Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Shelley gave Aaron a pointed look as she strode past him, ignoring the pained look on his face.

“Fair enough,” Aaron said as he followed Shelley outside. “But we have to get out of here right now.”

They rounded the corner to the lot where Aaron had left his vehicle. When Shelley saw it, she stopped short.

“The Popemobile?”

“Yeah!”

“Where did you even get that?”

“DUH. The Pope.”

“Doesn’t the Pope need it for all of his, um, Poping duties?”

“Heh. You said ‘doodies.’”

But before Aaron could finish giggling at his own sophomoric joke, he was interrupted by the all-too-familiar sound he had dedicated his life to understanding. It was unmistakable: The slow but steady plodding of feet, the oozing of undead flesh, the unquenchable thirst for brains. In an instant Aaron knew what they had to do.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered as he opened the door to the Popemobile and shoved a wide-eyed Shelley inside. Aaron struck the most heroic pose he could muster and lowered his voice into his best Bruce Campbell impression. “We got zombies.”

The undead were closing the gap. Aaron slid across the hood Dukes of Hazzard-style and crawled into the glass dome of the Popemobile as quickly as he could. “Drive!” he yelled to Shelley as he activated the gun turret installed by former Pope John Paul II. (Even Popes can’t be too careful, or else they might die and go to heaven.)

Shelley floored it and sent the Popemobile careening down the street, Aaron hanging on for dear life in the glass dome/gun turret. He fired at every zombie he could see, but they kept coming, some of them grabbing on to the Popemobile and crawling their way up until there was nothing but a sheet of breaking glass between them and our heroes. 

“Shelley!” Aaron screeched as he felt the cold zombie hand grab his arm. She turned to meet his gaze, and knew she had no choice. She slammed on the brakes, sending Aaron and four or five zombies flying into the night. Aaron squeezed his eyes shut tight, fully expecting to collide with a tree or a brick wall, but was surprised to land in the arms of something soft.

“What the ...?” he smiled as he realized all his vital organs were still intact. But that smile faded as he realized whose arms he had landed in. “B-b-b-Beej?”

Zombie Beej smiled, blood dripping from his fangs. “Hello, Aaron. You look ... delicious.”

Just as Zombie Beej was about to take a bite out of Aaron’s head, they heard a loud noise.

If you think Zombie Beej should ignore the noise and continue eating delicious Aaron brains, click here.

If you think Zombie Beej should put his meal on hold and go check out that noise, click here.