She Hadn’t Meant To Get Trapped In

What Hamlet Suffers From Is A Lack Of Zombies. Let Us Say Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Show Up—ho-ho! Now You’ve Got Something That Stirs The, Um, Something That Stirs Things That Are Stirrable. Boom! A Pack Of Ravenous Flesh-eaters Breaks Open Their Heads And Sucks Out Their Eyeballs. No Need For Iambic Pentameter Because They Are Grunting, Groaning Annihilators Of Humanity With No Time For Meter. You’re Not Asleep In The Back Of English Class Anymore, Are You? This Is What I’m Talking About. Zombies. Learn It, Live It, Love It.

She Smiled As Sweetly As A Show Poster For The Glorified, All-american Ziegfeld Girl Just Before Dumping Her Second Cigarette Into Wally’s Fresh Cup Of Coffee.

Agent Jones Switched To The Big Screen And A Grainy Video Of Momo Sitting At His Enormous Desk, A Swivel-hipped Elvis Clock Ticking Behind His Bewigged Head. 'death To The Capitalist Pigs! Death To Your Cinnamon Bun-smelling Malls! Death To Your Power Walking And Automatic Car Windows And I'm With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic Of Chacha Will Never Bend To Your Side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that Corruption! Momo B. Chacha Defies You And All You Stand For, And One Day, You Will Crumble Into The Sea And We Will Pick Up The Pieces And Make Them Into Sand Art.

They Kept The Lie Going, And The People Loved It.

Everything Is Randomly Connected.