Mr. Zombie Goes to

Washington

It’s not that hard being a zombie. Rumors of the zombie apocalypse as well as numerous books and movies had made people more and more aware of the dangers zombies posed. If they actually cared to believe that we existed that is. Most didn’t. That helped. That we aren’t really shuffling around, wearing bandages, flesh dropping from our bones also helps. That only happens in Hollywood—and when we can’t get enough human brains. If you actually meet a zombie in rotted condition, he’s been without proper zombie nutrition for some time and is probably near death. Real death, he will cease to exist, fade turn to dust and no longer be among the walking dead.

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This is why; contrary to popular opinion, there won’t be a zombie apocalypse. We live on human brains, and if there were to be a zombie apocalypse, we would run out of food. True we can make due with any living flesh, but we cannot survive for long without the special nutrients found in human brains.

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A zombie can actually absorb much of the nutrition he needs from a living brain without killing the host—again contrary to popular opinion.

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I’ve been a zombie for many years, living peacefully in a small rural community. I’m actually fairly well liked and respected—a leader in my local church. Going to church every Sunday has helped me absorb the nutrients I need to stay healthy. Most people here never even notice what they lose, as most aren’t that smart to begin with.

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I never thought I would be interested in politics. I like my small community and as a leader in the local church, I follow the golden rule and do onto others (except for that little brain nutrient draining I do twice a week). And I work hard to set a good example. So I guess in some ways I’m a community leader also.

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When our last representative died in office and the governor was looking to make a quick appointment—somehow my name got forwarded to him and I was nominated. The folks in my community lobbied and cajoled and I soon found myself headed to Washington D.C.—there to represent the people who had sustained me for many years.

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I guess I was happy to pay them back, as this was only supposed to be a temporary thing until the next election. Although I was told by the party, that if I was interested in running at the next election, they would be happy to endorse me. Seems not many politicians were ever interested in representing our little community.

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I told them I would think about it and packed my bags to head to Washington. I was thinking about all those brains that would be available each time Congress was called into session—after all these were supposed to be some of the smartest people in the country so they should have above average brains—right.

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WRONG! I walked into my first session of Congress ready to draw nutrients from the brains of my fellow representatives. What I got was over 400 particles of Zombie mush. They were all Zombies like me. There wasn’t a human brain anywhere to be sensed, except in the offices.

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Now I understood what had killed our last representative. He was truly a good man. One who didn’t have affairs, didn’t have a huge office staff. Came to Washington to do his job and represent his constituents. He had also been a Zombie and had finally died from starvation.

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I realized the same thing would happen to me if I followed in his footsteps, but all those years of going to church twice a week had left me with certain beliefs—the same beliefs my constituents had sent me here to uphold.

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Okay, I would probably waste some taxpayer money—and have a large staff. I had to get at least enough nutrition to survive till the end of my term. Then again, there was always the chance no one would miss a few lobbyists and actual brain matter is better and lasts longer. Maybe I would seek another term if things worked out. We would have to see.

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