As Ozzy and Aaron walked out into the street, the streetlights casta faint, shadowy glow on the city. The road was filled with dead
bodies as well. They soon came to an intersection and had to make a decision.
"I think we should go right," Aaron suggested.
"Yeah," Ozzy quipped, "I figured you wouldn't want to go straight."
"Really? We're in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and you're making gay jokes?"
"Sorry, just popped into my head."
"So right?" Aaron repeated.
"Sounds good to—"
Ozzy's reply was cut short by a machette flying through the air between them and sticking itself into a telephone pole. The two boys
spun around to face their attacker. Not surprisingly, the assailant was none other than Jason Voorhees in his trademark goalie mask.
"Yeah, didn't see THAT coming," Ozzy remarked sarcastically.
The murderer was close enough that Aaron swung his bat at the zombie. Jason staggered as he was hit, but didn't go down or slow in
his approach.
"Shoot him!" Aaron yelled.
"Haven't you watched the movies? He's invincible!"
"Fucking great! And I suppose he hates gays more than you do?"
Jason growled at that comment and nodded his head in a "yes" fashion. He went straight for Aaron.
"It was rhetorical, you undead son of a bitch!" Aaron shouted as he swung the bat so hard that Voorhees went flying and landed
sprawled out on the side walk a few yards away.
"Jesus Christ, man," Ozzy exclaimed, "You're just pissing him off more! Now let's get out of here before he gets up."
They ran away from the murderer and turned to watch for when he got up. But as he did, he was crushed by a huge spider leg as a
twenty-foot-tall tarantula sped along the road towards them.
"Holy Hell!" Ozzy yelped and dragged Aaron into a nearby building while he laughed at the homophobic zombie's demise.
Neither of them noticed the changes beginning on their own bodies.