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Saithis
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It r teh KLAOWN. FROM "IT". OSHI-! RUN AVAY!
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It was terrible, the perfect plan, the best place to use it. It was highly improbable that anything could possibly go wrong. (This from the resident nerd.) Noone had figured the zombies smart enough to think of going into the sewers, but apparently, they did. The entire building was a blood bath. Filled full of gore, empty cartridges, and mangled limbs, still twitching. They'd came so fast, so frenzied. . . it was impossible to stop their numbers. Even if they'd been commando's, they would have run out of ammo long before.

Phill, as he was often named, had grabbed as many guns as he could carry, and ran to the roof, leaping from it onto the roof of the police station next door. It had been easy to jump into one of the abandoned cruisers, shove the now re-dead dead cop out of the way, and drive through a crowd of the undead. A couple of flips of the Radio Station dial, and hearing various different ramblings by dipshits, moaning from some dead thing, and the sound of three or so people praying, he'd flipped it off, and sighed.

Well, there was always this plan some friends of his online had mentioned incase something like this ever happend. . . Hell, why not. He put his foot on the pedal, shoved it in with force, and drove through the farms of several different places, humming Midnight Sonata to himself quietly.
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