The Hell I Do!

You Molly-wop the zombie girl and hit her across the face with the butt of your pistol. The cock-slap alone should have done the trick, but it was just plain stupid to assume that even a meaty 15" cock could knock out a zombie. You promptly zip up your pants and run down the street, away from the disgusting zombie orgy. Why were you ever turned on by the ghastly display of aninecrophelia? You feel the bile rising in your throat that Jill is still riding those dessicated husks when you hear her strangled cries as the zombies tire of their new plaything. You hardly have the desire to turn around, that's for damn sure.

You are running as fast as your legs can carry you from the zombie horde at your back, led by the well-preserved zombie girl you nearly killed with a Mushroom Stamp. The acrid smell of decay and burning rubble surrounds you as your burning legs finally begin losing speed and momentum. You run out into the street when a garbage truck nearly runs you down. Diving, you avoid the truck, horn blasting, and turn to face the zombies while facing backwards. Continuously firing and backpedalling, you begin to discourage the remaining rotting fuckers from pursuing their target. With a grin, you turn around again.

And collide at full speed with a beautiful woman.