I don't have much time.
We've boarded the windows and blocked the doors but those damn zombies, all those "sane" zombies that have been lurching their way down here from Westfield, they won't stop, it's a cascade an endless moaning writhing rotting cascade of necrotic flesh and it's worse it's getting worse because now they're rallying something about sanity (or is it fear?) and the worst thing, the worst thing of all, it's the absolute worst thing because it's Seattle and it's raining and Fran's here but she's too busy reloading and JB already went down and it's going to be the end it's going to be all over because it doesn't matter if you think you're immune that's not the problem it's not that we're out of ammunition it's not that Janine is now using staples to fight them off and I'm still writing this damn blog entry that's not it that's not the thing don't you get it don't you understand why it's over why it's ALL OVER?
...the zombies drank all the coffee.
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