>The SCAT Zombies
>Did you ever think about where that pizza you ate last night ended up?
>Did you ever see a SCAT Zombie? I never did until one night I was
>driving by the sewer plant when my headlights caught the eyes of a
>terrible creature slithering into the darkness. I about shit my pants,
>good thing I didn't, more about that later. I whipped a U turn and
>headed for home. I finally convinced myself that it was a 'coon or a
>deer. I never gave it a second thought. It was good to be home. A few
>weeks later I got a flat tire and pulled off at the treatment plant to
>fix it. I cursed my bad luck but I decided to change the tire myself
>instead of calling AAA. I was damn near done when out of the corner of
>my eye I saw something move in the bushes. It was that same horrible
>creature I saw the last time. I hurried up and got the hell out of
>there. This time I reported the incident to Bob, the local sheriff. I
>had known Bob for most of my life. We grew up together playing
>baseball and Pop Warner football. I told him about what I saw at the
>plant and he listened with a blank stare. I couldn't tell what Bob was
>thinking. Finally, Bob said “You know I have been hearing about some
>strange things going on at that plant for some time. Maybe we should
>check it out some night."
>Bob and I headed out the next night to check out the plant. It was
>late when we pulled up. We got out and Bob opened the trunk and pulled
>out a shotgun and a couple of flashlights. We found an opening in the
>chain link fence and walked into the tree lined area as quiet as we as
>possible. Bob was shining the flashlight around trying to get a
>perspective of the dark landscape. Suddenly Bob screamed "Oh my God
>look at that!!!" I glanced around just in time to see two freaks
>fighting over a big turd. It was appalling. One creature screamed with
>a hideous voice "Pull down you pants and shit on my face!” Another
>creature howled out “My Name is Poop on Toast!” We ran back to the
>Bob’s patrol car as fast as we could and drove back to the station.
>When Bob and I arrived back at his office we knew our little town was
>in trouble."Did you see how gross those two freaks were fighting over
>that turd!!!" Bob said "I never seen anything like it." I asked Bob
>if there was anyone we could call to help us deal with this problem.
>"Who we going to call for help?" exclaimed Bob. About that time a
>stranger came through the door. "Who the hell are you?" exclaimed Bob.
>"My name is Van Flushling," replied the stranger. "And I am here to
>help you with your problem." "What problem is that?" I asked. Van
>Flushling explained to us about the SCAT Zombies and their weird
>desires for faceshitting and turd bobbing. Apparently the scent of
>farts gets them in frenzy. "God Damnit I knew that Baked Bean festival
>was a bad idea for our town" I said "We farted ourselves into a
>crisis". Van Flushling looked at me and said "You are right, the town
>was farting because of that festival and the sewer system got
>overloaded".
>After a while Van Flushling said we should take another look at the
>sewer system to assess the problem. If we can locate the Head Turd of
>the SCAT Zombies it is possible to kill the infestation. "I ain't
>going back there without a weapon!!" exclaimed Bob "How do we defend
>ourselves". Van Flushing stated, "Our only defense is a spray bottle
>full of Drano and a plunger. The Drano stuns them and the plunger
>signifies the unclogging of the toilet, SCAT Zombies want a clogged
>toilet because they can take their time eating". I looked at Bob and
>asked him if he believed this bullshit. "The only way to kill a SCAT
>Zombie is to shoot him in the head with a bullet made from a chrome
>flush handle. Sheriff if you have a 44 magnum pistol I could give you
>some of my ammo".
>Van Flushling's plan was to capture a SCAT Zombie and interrogate the
>freak until he gave up his leader. Bob ordered everyone at the
>Sherrif's office to go to McDonalds and load up on Big Mac's and
>chocolate shakes. "I want everyone's bowels ready to let loose when we
>capture one of those freaks for an interview" Bob yelled. Off we went
>back to the waste treatment plant. Our plan was to capture a SCAT
>Zombie and get some information. I saw the look in Bob's eye and I
>just knew he was determined to protect our town.
>We pulled into the sewer system and got out. The drive over to the
>plant was eerily silent. When we arrived Van Flushling got out of the
>car and began peeling the wrappers off of Baby Ruth and Nutrageous
>candy bars. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked Von Flushling "I am
>using these candy bars as bait. The Zombies can't tell the difference
>between a Baby Ruth and a turd until they pick them up. We just need
>to capture one and take it back to the station". Von Flushling threw
>the bait out and sure enough a bunch of SCAT Zombies flew into a feral
>feeding frenzy. Van Flushling stepped up and smacked one sick looking
>freak up side the head with a plunger. I stepped in and sprayed Drano
>on the rest of the freaks and they left howling and screaming. "Hand
>cuff that turd eating Bastard," I yelled to Bob. Finally we got the
>freak into the car and we hurried back to the station.
>Man o' man what a sick looking Zombie. Green teeth, blood shot eyes
>and stunk like shit. We interrogated the SCAT Zombie but we weren't
>getting anywhere. Finally the Sheriff called in the detectives. We
>tied up the Zombie in the bathroom. Detective Bill "tiny" Zambooska, a
>huge 6' 5" 300 pound-eating machine strode in to the shitter with a
>newspaper and groaned out. "I ate six Big Macs and two shakes! I am
>ready to explode!!!" Tiny pulled his pants down, sat on the shitter,
>let out a huge fart and proceeded to shit up a storm. "Fill up the
>bowl" commanded Van Flushling "and try to keep the logs as whole as
>possible. Zombies like logs, they don't like diarrhea". I glanced over
>at the Scat Zombie and his eyes were wild with a force I have never
>seen in my life. Tiny stunk the fucking place up and we were bitching
>about it but the Zombie just breathed in every stinky gas pocket
>emanating from Tiny's bowels. Finally, we couldn't stand it anymore
>and I yelled out "Courtesy flush Tiny, you are going to kill us all".
>"Fuck you guys," yelled Tiny "Do you think I am a machine here". Tiny
>finally wiped his ass and got and just as he was ready to flush the
>Zombie cried out "don't waste those good turds!!!" Van Flushling
>yelled, "Tiny will flush if you don't tell us your name. The freak
>yelled out “Poop on Toast, My name is Poop On Toast”. “OK” yelled out
>Van Flushling “Who is the head turd?.” “Lucky” exclaimed Poop on Toast
>“Lucky is the head turd” Van Flushling trembled "Gentlemen, this is
>the biggest turd I have ever dealt with. We will have to be very
>careful". "Get that freak into lockup" yelled Sheriff Bob. The Zombie
>realized that he was never going to gorge on Tiny's used Big Mac's and
>screamed out in horrible agony.
>We gathered back into the Bob’s office and contemplated our next move.
>Van Flushling filled us in on Lucky and his terrible minions. It turns
>out that Poop on Toast was a low level pile of shit and that some
>asshole named Mitchell usually acted as the front turd for Lucky. We
>all realized that Poop on Toast was a waitress at Denny’s before she
>fell under Lucky’s spell. “Denny’s got to raise their wages so they
>can attract better help” exclaimed Sheriff Bob. “They gotta be
>desperate for help to hire that bag of shit.”
>The next day at Bob’s office Van Flushling came up with a plan. Van
>Flushling explained to us that Scat Zombies love disco music. Zombies
>like to dance to the disco beat. Zombies can’t control their bodies as
>they jive to disco. “How is this going to help us” exclaimed Bob.
>“Well” Van Flushling stated “We can play disco music over the
>emergency system and catch those ShitHeads dancing. We can see if your
>town has been infested by Scat Zombies.” I didn’t believe this disco
>nonsense for a second. “Why don’t we pipe in some disco to the Poop on
>Toast Zombie we got locked up and see if your disco theory works” I
>said. We all thought it was a great idea. So we called up the local
>70’s station and requested a few classic disco tunes. We headed down
>to lockup with a portable boom box Sheriff Bob confiscated from a
>deadbeat that he arrested a few years ago. Bob tuned the disco station
>in and before we could say a word the DJ played the classic disco hit
>The Hustle. Poop on Toast broke out into a quick step hustle faster
>than you can say John Travolta. What a sick fucking site. Poop on
>Toast was dancing around the cell screaming out to the beat “Do the
>Hustle!!!” Finally, Sheriff Bob pulled out his pistol and shot it down
>like a dog. “I will never eat at Denny’s again” Bob said.
>To be continues
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