People talk about the moaning of the dead, but that hasn’t been my experience. The sound I associate with zombies is of a different sort, mostly techno babble.
Bill Gates. Boy howdy, he’s rich as the devil and twice as rude, but in life he was considered benevolent. When his laser-satellites saved us from the horde, I guess we were too busy being grateful to realize he’d been weeding out the competition.
That is, until he began showing up to galas with an old-timey pistol. He’d punctuate his conversation by shooting a software programmer in the stomach, then feast on his brains like it was any other day.
And what of it? There were complaints, but what does a lawsuit mean to a man with no discernible brain waves? Money like that, he could leave a quarter with his own face on the corpse and STILL pay off the cops.
At least your average zombie can be out-run. Now all that’s left is him, patrolling the streets in a diamond-encrusted bulletproof hamster ball filled with truffles and champagne.

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