The Perfect Zombie Ending
Big Willy Smith has one bullet left in his gun, he aims it at the head of a zombie who looks like Jazzy Jeff.
'Eat bullet, zombie Jeff,' Big Willy Smith says. 'You won't eat me alive!
'
'Fresh... Prince... meat...' Jazzy zombie says.
'F*** you! F*** you!!!' Big Willy Smith fires off the last bullet at Jazzy zombie after a momentary thought of shooting himself has been discarded.
The bulley misses.
PeeAOW!
'F***,' Big Willy Smith says, shaking his head and stroking his tash. He then cowers in the corner, wondering why zombies are so much harder than aliens to kill. 'Please, think of the audience. They won't come back for a sequel unless I live and smoke a cigar as the credits roll.'
'Fresh... Prince... meat...' Jazzy zombie says.
Jazzy zombie's blood-filled mouth looms over Big Willy Smith's tan neck, the teeth chomping at air. Big Willy Smith closes his eyes tight, waiting for the pain that will come from being eaten by Jazzy zombie.
A moment of pure silence and then Big Willy Smith opens his brown cow eyes as he hears a cheer from the audience.
'It's Chuck Norris
,' Big Willy Smith says.
A man crashes to the road in a striking stuntman my-sh**-don't-stink pose, his Kung Foo jeans tight and uncreased, his golden-brown beard sparkling in the sun, and his cowboy boots crack the blacktop with thunder.
'When he comes, he comes with the thunder
,' Big Willy Smith says. 'Welcome to Earth.'
'Things are gonna get messy,' Chuck Norris, our hero, says. 'Get away from him, you bi**h!
'
'Fresh... Chuck... meat...' Jazzy zombie says.
A blur of blue Kung Foo denim flashes across the screen and Chuck Norris, our hero, kicks the sh** out of Jazzy zombie. 'You dirtied my boots, Jazzy zombie. I cannot let that pass,' Chuck Norris, our hero, says. He then stands on Jazzy zombie's stomach and a loud ripping gassy sound escapes the once cool and funny, baggy pant-wearing zombie.
'Chuck Norris, my hero!' Big Willy Smith says, sobbing whilst lighting his cigar.
'Whoaaaaaaaa!' Chuck Norris, our hero, says. 'Not until the fat lady sings.'
'But Chuck Norris, my hero, how are we going to beat the rest of them
?'
Chuck Norris, our hero, raises his hand:
As his thumb points to the heavens a large flock of fighter jets thunder above, dropping bombs and firing missiles, killing the wave of zombies I haven't mentioned yet that are coming over a hill with the sun shining behind them.
Smoke rises from the dead zombie bodies and Chuck Norris, our hero, and Big Willy Smith light their cigars. Beards and tashes are stroked, sunglasses are worn, penises are adjusted.
'I know the zombies wouldn't go down without a fight,' Chuck Norris, our hero, says.
Big Willy Smith Looks at him, half a smile cocked on his brown face. 'Now that's what I call a close encounter.'
Chuck Norris, our hero, takes a deep moment of thought, lets out a breath and then: :facepalm
/Credits