The Hardy Zombie Apocalypse: The Movie (Act IIc)
04/02/2011

NOTE FROM MORPHEUS: Hey there, Dreamers. It's been a wild few weeks since we last danced here on Ell Oh Pee. In case you haven't heard by now, my little corner of the world was rocked by a massive quake that spawned some serious tsunami action, the combination of which has led to some serious nuclear repercussions here in the Land of the Rising Sun. For the three of you out there who would care if I were suddenly vanquished in a fiery doom, I am glad to report that I am on the opposite side of the country from where all of this action took place, so we have been relatively safe here.

That said, the entire government and its infrastructure are in absolute chaos, so it's been difficult to access the internet the way I would have liked to. It's kept me largely off the grid of late, but hopefully things are starting to iron themselves out in that sense now. I still have difficulty accessing the forums and my Morpheus Facebook account, and I want to apologize to all the people I haven't been able to get back to because of that. Like I said, hopefully things will be turning around here soon. I'm especially sorry to be forcibly left out of all of the ColuMania smack talking that is no doubt going on right now as well.

Speaking of ColuMania, this here marks my efforts as Captain Awesome of the Main Page Mafia as we take on the best the Columns Forum has to offer in the ColuMania competition that is currently going on in LOPForums.com. A lot of you dug on the previous parts to this (links to them appear below) and more than a few people have been riding my ass, looking for a new installment to the Hardy Zombie Apocalypse Movie, and so here it is. I only got about halfway through all of the plot points I wanted to include in this one because of both time and space constraints, so you can bet your ass another one is in the works.

All you Dreamers out there should check out the columns in this competition and vote for the people you feel put forth the better columns in this showdown. Get to it, and be sure to vote for Dr. M and his crew, because we're totally going to spank those wannabe posers. Let's end this pointless banter and get right to it before I lose power, shall we?

Sheepster ascends the stairs into the airplane, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Once inside, the staircase folds itself up and retracts into the cabin as the door closes behind it. The airplane begins to turn itself around and head back down the runway, gathering speed as the camera watches the craft prepare for takeoff. A rustling sound is heard behind the camera, which pans over to where the cars are still parked.

Voice: No… Wait…

A tense moment goes by when suddenly a hand appears from behind one of the cars, grabbing onto the trunk for support. The hand holds tightly as it uses the leverage to raise the rest of its attached body up from behind the car, showing the owner's face in the light from the runway.

Johnny Boomerang: Don't leave…

Johnny watches as the airplane lifts off the ground and takes to the air. It curves in its flight path to pass nearly overhead as he watches in anger. He raises his fist to the sky, shaking it at the plane as it passes by.

Johnny Boomerang: Damn you bastards! You'll pay for this! I swear, I'll-

Johnny stops dead, staring at his fist. He opens his hand and examines both sides carefully. The camera pans in to show what caught his attention; black nails and henna tattoos. Johnny looks up his arms and sees a tattered mesh shirt he didn't remember putting on. He reaches up and feels his once-pristine face, which is now marked by extensive acne.

Johnny Boomerang: I can't believe it. I'm…

Johnny looks directly into the camera.

Johnny Boomerang: A Zombie…

What appears to be a smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, as groaning and rustling sounds begin to emanate from the direction of the buildings on the airfield. The camera pans over to see another wave of the Hardy Zombies approaching over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Nearly two dozen of the former humans begin to surround Johnny where he stands in front of the cars. Johnny holds up his hand, and suddenly the creatures cease their advance.

Johnny Boomerang: My brothers…

One by one, each of the Hardy Zombies drops to one knee, lowering their heads as Johnny stands tall in their midst. They all begin to emit a low, unnerving growl in unison.

Johnny Boomerang: We have much to discuss…

The scene changes back to Springwood, outside Steve's house. The seven men from the van have worked their way silently across the lawn and have collected near the front of the house, where shadows can be seen moving past the windows, and the front door stands slightly ajar.

Uncle Joe: Can you tell who them niggas are?

Hustle: I can't see a damn thing through Steve's tacky-ass 70's disco curtains.

Mazza: I would have to agree. Considering the proprietor of this establishment, and his self-proclaimed status as a bastion of metal and all things cool, I would have expected a better choice in window décor. Overall, I have to admit it leaves me underwhelmed.
Mazza Rating: C

YourAyatollah: Man, fuck you guys. That pattern never goes out of style.

Morpheus: That's because it was never in style to begin with.

Current Big Thing: Ha! Nice one, Morph! Your wit is impeccable!

Morpheus: And you're getting creepy.

Shane: Nothing wrong with one man expressing his affection for another.

Uncle Joe: Pause.

YourAyatollah: Alright, I'm taking a look inside. Morph, give me your sword.

Morpheus: Blade, be true this day.

Hustle: And somehow, it just got gayer.

Steve takes the sword from Morpheus and signals for silence as he begins to climb the steps to his front door. As he nears the top step, a commotion is heard coming from the direction of the house next door. The camera pans over to show two men conversing animatedly as they approach the group in front of Steve's house.

YourAyatollah: Oh, fuck. Perfect timing.

Steve descends the stairs and rejoins the group waiting at the front of the house as the two unknown men approach. Their heated conversation continues as they hold up their guns to one another in an apparent show of one-upmanship.

Bloodline: I'm telling you, an assault rifle like this bad boy will give you the most bang for your buck. I'll bet you I can take out more of these bastards faster than you can with your ghetto blaster.

Rey Ca$h: Fuck that noise, son. My AK can mow down a row of these bitches before you even get your sights lined up. That's Money in the Bank.

YourAyatollah: Well, if it isn't the fairly fucking odd couple.

Bloodline: Dude, not cool. You know I'm only crashing with Rey until my apartment is finished with its renovations.

Rey Ca$h: Yeah, and how long has that been going on so far?

Bloodline: Seven months. Should be finished any day now.

Hustle: This is me not holding my breath.

Uncle Joe: Damn, nigga. This is me offering you a mint.

Shane: I see what you did there.

Morpheus: Can I have my sword back? Please?

Rey Ca$h: Yeah, boss. You might as well give it back to him. That's why we're here. We saw you looking like you were about to mount an assault on Casa Del Steve-O here without any firepower. Considering our current situation, I figured that might not be such a good idea.

Current Big Thing: So you were just watching us out of your window the whole time?

Bloodline: Dude, we're from Texas, remember? That's kind of what people do there.

Mazza: That answers so many questions, but yet leaves so many more.

Morpheus: Please don't start asking them now.

YourAyatollah: I'm with Dr. M on this one. We need to figure out who the fuck is in my house, take them down, and arm up so we have a fighting chance in this Dumbassocalypse.

Bloodline: Which is why we've come to save your ass. If you go in there with that oversized kitchen knife-

Morpheus: Hey!

Bloodline: -then you'll find yourself surrendering faster than the French in, well, any conceivable situation.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that's fucked up. Hustle's French.

Hustle: Le Damn.

Bloodline: Sorry, bro. My bad.

Morpheus: Steve. Whiskey. Now.

YourAyatollah: Right, I'm going in.

Rey Ca$h: Wait, son. Here, take one of these.

Rey unshoulders a duffel bag and opens it up revealing a few high-quality pieces of heavy firepower.

Current Big Thing: Those are some pretty sweet guns. How'd you come across them?

Rey stares at Ceebs for a moment before replying.

Rey Ca$h: I'm black.

Current Big Thing: So?

Rey Ca$h: Well, there are a lot of stereotypes about black people. Some are true, some are not. The holy trinity of stereotypes, though, are very much rooted in fact.

Current Big Thing: And what is the Holy Trinity?

Rey Ca$h: One. All black people-

Shane: Are criminals?

Rey Ca$h: Alright, give me one good reason I shouldn't kill this mother fucker where he stands.

Bloodline: Because if you do, you'll be proving him right?

Morpheus: And he's the only one who knows how to drive the van.

Rey Ca$h: Alright, man. I'm cool. As I was saying, One. All black people own guns. Nice ones, too. Not those bullshit pieces you see being run by bullshit Puerto Rican gangbangers.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that's fucked up. Hustle's Puerto Rican.

Hustle: Damn.

Rey Ca$h: Sorry bro. My bad. But you get my point.

Morpheus: Ok, now I have to step in. Joe, aren't you Puerto Rican?

Uncle Joe: Yeah.

Morpheus: So why weren't you offended by what Rey just said?

Uncle Joe: What did he say?

Morpheus: For the love of- What's the ETA on that whiskey, Steve?

Uncle Joe: And who the fuck is Rey?

Mazza: Moving on.

Rey Ca$h: Right. Number Two. We're responsible for eating more pussy than the entire nation of Korea, if you catch my meaning.

Mazza: Get it? Because Koreans eat cats!

Uncle Joe: Dude, that's fucked up. Hustle's Korean.

Hustle: Damn.

Morpheus: Seriously, can we go inside and get that whiskey now?

Rey Ca$h And number Three. We have enormous penises.

Current Big Thing: Oh, that one I knew already.

Everyone stops and looks at Ceebs in stunned silence. Cold realization wipes across his face, and he stammers for a defense.

Current Big Thing: Well, now… Wait a minute… That's not what I…

Mazza: You want to borrow one of my sundresses?

YourAyatollah: Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy…

Uncle Joe: Dude, that's fucked up. Hustle's G-

Hustle: Pause.

Morpheus: Fuck it. I'm going in there myself.

Morpheus starts to ascend the steps, but is stopped by Steve as a school bus pulls up in front of the house. The nine men stand in silence and watch as someone disembarks. The bus speeds off leaving the person standing there with nine sets of eyes trained on him.

Mavsman: Hey guys. Sorry I'm late. I got detention for telling my English teacher he was an asshole for not letting us out early on account of zombies.

Bloodline: Just glad to see you made it, Mavs.

Mavsman: Yeah, but my teacher wasn't so lucky. He should have listened to me. Asshole.

Mazza: I love happy endings.

Uncle Joe: I heard that about you.

Morpheus: Can we get on with the whole "finding out who's in Steve's house so Morph can get his whiskey and his White Ving Rhames on" thing now?

Shane: I have just one question before we do.

YourAyatollah: And what's that?

Shane: Aren’t you four guys from Texas?

Rey Ca$h: Yeah. So?

Shane: Well then what are the four of you doing living up here in Springwood, NY?

Bloodline: Actually, that's a funny story. It all started about six months ago, when-

Morpheus: Wait a minute. Before we get into that story, I've got one for you. I'm thinking of a number between zero and infinity. It's a whole number, no decimals.

Bloodline: That's a whole lot of ground to cover. Give a hint?

Morpheus: Sure. It's the number of fucks I give about your story.

Bloodline: Um… Is it greater than or equal to 1?

Morpheus: No.

Current Big Thing: Oooh, sick burn.

Hustle: Seriously, who says that?

Morpheus Now can we please get down to business?

YourAyatollah: Right. Time to flush out whoever's trespassing in my fucking house.

Steve hands the sword back to Morpheus and grabs a S.W.A.T.-style shotgun from Rey's duffel bag.

YourAyatollah: Morph, Rey, back me up. Game on.

Morpheus signals for silence as the three men ascend the steps up to the front door with Steve in the lead. Steve pushes the door open slowly, looking into the front hallway. Finding it empty, he steps into the house, followed by Morpheus and Rey Ca$h. The camera follows behind as the three men walk down the hallway and turn the corner into the kitchen. A man is sitting at the table reading the newspaper with his back to the hallway. Steve signals for his companions to stay put as he walks up behind the man and presses the barrel of the gun to the back of his skull.

YourAyatollah: Make your peace with God, mother fucker.

Man: Steve? Is that you?

YourAyatollah: And just who in the hell-

A crashing sound is heard coming from across the kitchen near the refrigerator, which stands open behind the counter. All four men turn to see the source of the sound.

Voice: A-HA! Gotcha!

Steve looks back over at the man seated at his kitchen table, whose face is now visible in profile.

YourAyatollah: What the… Wevv?

Wevv Mang: How you doing, buddy?

YourAyatollah: What are you doing here?

The men are interrupted by another crash as an enormous man stands up from behind the counter, holding a package of ham steaks in his giant hand. He lifts it over his head in a familiar motion.

Big Show: HAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!

Morpheus: This just keeps getting better.

Rey Ca$h: Good thing you've got really high ceilings in this place.

Big Show starts tearing into the packaging when a voice comes from the living room area.

Voice: What's all the commotion in there?

Another large man enters the kitchen and raises his hands in surrender as Steve, Morpheus, and Rey Ca$h all train their weapons on him.

Kane: Whatever it is, I didn't do it. Wevv did it.

YourAyatollah: Somehow that sounds about right. Anyone else here we should know about?

Wevv Mang: Just us three, boss.

Steve lowers his weapon, and signals to the other two to do the same.

Rey Ca$h: I didn't even have to use my AK.

Everyone: I'd have to say it was a good day.

Morpheus: Nice.

Wevv Mang: Kane…

Kane: Wevv…?

Wevv Mang: Did you forget to do something?

Kane: What are you talking about?

Wevv Mang: I didn't hear a flush…

Kane closes his eyes in embarrassment. He slowly raises both hands high above his head, and then quickly brings his arms down to his sides, bending over with the effort. As he does so, a loud bang is heard as the burners on Steve's stove jump to life violently, shooting the metal bracers clean off and lighting Big Show's shirt on fire.

Big Show: Son of a bitch!

Morpheus: Stop, drop, and roll, Lunchbox!

Big Show crashes forward through the counter, smacking his head hard on the ground as he lands. He begins to roll frantically back and forth until the flames are finally extinguished.

Kane: My bad…

YourAyatollah: Mother fucker just broke my cookie jar!

Big Show sits up and tears off a piece of the ham he's still holding.

Big Show: Cookies?

Kane raises his hands above his head a second time, and as he brings his arms down, the sound of a toilet flushing elsewhere in the house can be heard.

Wevv Mang: Much better.

Kane: I've been practicing.

Morpheus: I'll take that whiskey now, Steve.

YourAyatollah: You and me both.

Steve grabs two bottles of whiskey from the cabinet and hands one to Morpheus.

Morpheus: Crown? Are you fucking kidding me?

YourAyatollah: Ain't nothin' wrong with Crown.

Morpheus: Glad you think so. Switch then. I'll take the Jameson.

Steve sighs as he trades bottles with Morpheus and then turns his attention back to Wevv.

YourAyatollah: So, Wevv, it's nice to see you and all, but why are you in my house?

Wevv Mang: Well, we figured that with all this craziness going down, it would be best to travel in a group, and your place was the closest one to where we were hanging out at the time.

Rey Ca$h: Which was where, exactly?

Big Show: Nipples and Dicks. It's a strip joint up th-

YourAyatollah: I know what Nipples and Dicks is. The question is why were you there?

Wevv and Show turn their gazes toward Kane, who blushes heavily before finally smiling broadly.

Kane: I like vaginas.

Morpheus: And that's just fucking disturbing.

Big Show: Ahhh… My head hurts.

Morpheus fumbles around in his coat pocket and pulls out a white bottle of pills and tosses it to Big Show.

Morpheus: Here, big guy. Take two of these.

Big Show: What are they?

Morpheus: Sugar pills. They don't really do anything worthwhile, so you pretty much have that in common.

Big Show: I don't like you. You're mean.

Kane: He's funny.

Morpheus: And too sober for this conversation.

YourAyatollah: Cheers to that.

Rey Ca$h: Hey guys, we should probably let the others know everything's cool.

Wevv Mang: Others?

Rey Ca$h: Yeah, we got a crew gathered up outside. They were waiting to find out who was all up in Steve's shit before we came in to arm up and get ready to kick some ass.

Wevv Mang: Guns like that aren't enough? Well, boys, I'd say we came to the right place. We just might make it through this after all.

Kane: That would be nice.

Big Show *sniffle*

Wevv Mang: Oh, it's ok, Show. Go ahead and eat your ham. It'll make you feel better.

YourAyatollah: The whole world's gone fucking crazy.

Morpheus: Yeah, and I'm about a half a step behind it. We need to get shit moving, fellas. Steve, you go upstairs and grab your stash-

YourAyatollah: Good idea. I've been dying for a smoke since this whole thing-

Morpheus: Your weapons stash, Steve. The reason we came here.

YourAyatollah: Right. That too.

Morpheus: Rey, call the others inside so we can start formulating a plan and get ourselves armed up.

Rey Ca$h: On it.

Steve and Rey leave the room in opposite directions.

Wevv Mang: What should we do?

Morpheus: For now, just hang here with me and try not to break or burn anything else.

Wevv Mang: Sold!

A moment later, voices can be heard coming down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that's fucked up. Hustle's Latvian.

Hustle: Damn.

Mavsman: Sorry bro. My bad.

Hustle: Hater.

Morpheus: Bottoms up!

Morpheus takes a long swig from the bottle of Jameson as the remainder of the crew that was waiting outside enters the kitchen. They all look around, taking everything in, when suddenly Ceebs lets out an exasperated gasp.

Current Big Thing: WEVV MANG!!!

Ceebs runs over and throws himself into Wevv's lap, hugging him around his neck.

Wevv Mang: Um… Hi. And you are?

Current Big Thing: I'm totally your biggest fan!

Wevv Mang: Oh, cool. I've always wanted one of those.

The scene changes once again to the interior of a car speeding down the interstate.

KMA_Jackson: Jesus Christ, how much farther is it? My balls are falling asleep from being in this damn car for so long.

Mean Mark: I wish Maryse would fall asleep in this car.

Sean_Taylor: We're getting close now. I can feel it.

KMA_Jackson: You still haven't explained to me how that works. I think it's more than a little creepy that you can just "feel" where Morpheus is.

Sean_Taylor: I don't really understand it myself. It's as if we have some sort of connection that becomes a tangible link when I focus my thoughts on it.

Mark Mark: I'd like Maryse to become tangible when I focus my thoughts on her.

KMA_Jackson: Ok, but what could that connection be?

Sean_Taylor: That's what I am trying to find out.

KMA_Jackson: You don't have any id-

The conversation in the car stops abruptly as the three men focus their attention on something up ahead. They watch in awe as they pass by a naked man running down the side of the road.

KMA_Jackson: Is it just me, or did we just see a naked man running down the highway?

Mean Mark: I'd like to see a naked Maryse running down the highway.

Sean_Taylor: I think that was… Stop the car.

KMA_Jackson: What the f-

Sean_Taylor: Stop the fucking car!

KMA_Jackson: Alright! Damn!

KMA pulls the car off to the side of the road and puts it in park. Sean jumps out of the car and watches as the naked man comes approaching at a full run.

Sean_Taylor: I thought that's who it was.

KMA_Jackson: I'll leave aside the obvious opening there about how you identified a naked man from behind at 70 miles per hour, and just ask who the hell it is.

Sean_Taylor: Hey! Chrisss!

Super Chrisss: Shit, shit, shit! Sean? Is that you?

Sean_Taylor: Yeah, man. What the hell are you doing running naked down the highway?

Super Chrisss: No time to talk, bro! Get back in the car and give me a lift before shit really hits the fan!

KMA_Jackson: Dude, he's not getting in here naked.

Mean Mark: I'd like Maryse to get in here naked.

Sean_Taylor: Come on, man. It looks like we're all in a rush, and he clearly could use our help. Mark, open the back door for him.

KMA_Jackson: Fuck, man. At least put down a blanket or something.

Mark opens the back door and slides over as Sean sits back in the shotgun position, and Chrisss jumps into the backseat of the car, closing the door behind him.

Super Chrisss: Thanks for the ride, bros. You dudes have Zacktastic timing.

KMA_Jackson: Seriously, is there a towel or something back there? He's got his balls all up on my upholstery.

Mean Mark: I'd like to have Maryse's balls all over my upholstery.

All three men stop and look at Mark for a silent moment.

Mean Mark: I mean, wait…

Super Chrisss: No time for waiting, bro. They'll be on us any second. Let's get our escape on!

KMA puts the car in drive and peels off, speeding once more down the highway.

KMA_Jackson: You are so paying to have the balls cleaned out of my backseat, Taylor.

Sean_Taylor: Your reaction makes it worth every penny.

Mean Mark: I bet Maryse is worth every penny.

Source: lordsofpain.net