Night of the Living Renal Failure: Part 5

October 30, 2008

You might be wondering what’s up with two posts on a Thursday?  Just think of it as a special treat.

You might also be wondering why Mercury Shadow and Crimson Paraplegic haven’t taken care of the zombie holocaust with their super powers.  Well, they’re not here.  See, superheroes don’t fare well against zombies.  One bite and now you’ve got a zombie that can fly or lift 500 times its body weight or can shoot lasers from his eyes.  We can’t have that, so our superheroes have been relocated to undisclosed place, like maybe the moon.

And so Tina the Lesbian and I reach Chin-Fin Town and we’re shocked at two things: 1) how vacant and quiet the neighborhood is, and 2) the vast amount of decapitated zombie bodies lining the streets.

“Looks like zombie judgment day here,” I say.  “The question is, who’s doing the judging?”

The answer to that question is standing in the middle of Tikkanen Square in the form of Samurai Cathy.  She’s got a mountain of headless zombies almost as high as the Square’s commemorative fountain for the Wayne Gretzky-era Edmonton Oilers.

“Hey Cathy,” I say.  “Where’s Mikka?”

Samurai Cathy’s steel gaze acknowledges our presence, and then she looks away.  “He was eaten two days ago.”

“Cathy… I’m so sorry,” Tina the Lesbian says.

“He kept saying he would be fine,” Samurai Cathy continues.  “Kept saying that all those Resident Evil games had prepared him for this day.  He was wrong… and I couldn’t save him.”

“So what have you been doing this whole time?” I ask.

“Just killing time…” Samurai Cathy wistfully says.  “Killing zombies… waiting for death in glorious combat…”

“How about coming with us instead?”  Tina the Lesbian says.

“I cannot go with you,” Samurai Cathy says.  “I didn’t protect Mikka.  Along with the shameful dishonor of failing my samurai code, there’s also the crippling emptiness of failing the person I loved.  And I’d rather not carry both of those burdens any longer than I need to.”

“So you’re just going to kill zombies until they finally kill you?”  I say.

“No, I’ll eventually disembowel myself,” says Samurai Cathy.  “Right after I kill one last person…”

That’s when Ninja Vicki jumps out from the trees.  “And that would be me!”

“Hey, thanks a lot for ditching me, whore-bag!”  Tina the Lesbian yells at Ninja Vicki.  “I thought we were best friends.”

“We are,” says Ninja Vicki.  “It’s just that this eternal blood feud with Catherine is more important.”

“We swore that if there ever was a zombie apocalypse we would have our ultimate final battle at our earliest covenience,” Samurai Cathy says.

“Does earliest convenience mean leaving the Wheatleys to get eaten and me stranded on a roof?” Tina spitefully says. 

“Hey, before you two have your selfish duel to the death, could you point me and Tina in a safe direction?” I say.  “We still want to live.”

“Avonia the Wiccan Pimp and her whores have Stripper Row well-defended,” Ninja Vicki says.  “Maybe you can hide there.”

“Can we stay to watch Samurai Cathy gut the fuck out of Ninja Vicki?” says Tina the Lesbian.

“Hey!  You’re supposed to be rooting for me!”  Ninja Vicki says.  “We’re best friends, remember?”

“Shove it up your twat,” Tina the Lesbian says.   “You ran out on me.”

“Hello?  Ninja here,” says Ninja Vicki, pointing at herself.  “That’s the sort of thing we do, and do well.  Now if you stick around, you’ll get to see what else ninjas do well.”

“Sorry, but we’ve got to get going if we’re going to reach Stripper Row before dark,” I say.

And so we leave Ninja Vicki and Samurai Cathy to have their epic swordfight to end all swordfights.  We’ll probably never know who won.  We figure if Ninja Vicki wins, she won’t follow us to Strippers Row, and she’ll be destined to live out her days in a zombie dystopia, alone or with Tag Larkin.  And if Samurai Cathy wins we figure she’ll promptly commit seppuku to restore her honor and go up to Vahalla or wherever it is that samurai go when they die.  I hope it’s Valhalla, because that’s the afterlife destination Mikka was planning on going.



  1. ‘Gut the fuck out of’… theres a strange poetry to that phrase. Mikka, the Wheatleys, either of both of Vicki or Cathy, whose next?

  2. shit renal! what are you doing???? you’re killing off everybody!

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