An Open Letter To Our Future Zombie Overlords

Dear Future Zombie Overlords,

How are you guys? I know you’re really not into small talk, and there really is no reason for you guys would want to talk to us puny humans, especially after the Great Zombie Uprising of the Future will decide that we are inferior to the undead.

I don’t know where I’ll be when the time comes. I can hope to be alongside my fellow living humans, fighting for human survival, and probably kicking zombie ass every now and then. But since we all know I have the survival skills of a prairie dog, I’d probably be zombie and I’d be the fat stinky zombie who will comically stagger towards the female love interest of the hero. I’ll also get my brains blown out within five minutes of the Great Zombie Uprising of the Future.

By this guy

Whatever side I’ll end up in, it won’t matter. Right now I am alive and writing all sorts of dick jokes on the intertubes. Which means I have to list down a list of general demands for the sake of us living guys. I just hope you guys still remember how to read, because if you just hold this letter in your hands moaning “braiiiiins” ad nauseam, it kind of renders this whole exercise useless, you know?

Anyway, I am composing this letter so that you, the Great Zombie Ruling Council, may understand our (future) plight. In the distant future (this is what you people call “the present”) humans will be living in squalor conditions, working for unfeeling masters, getting no benefits whatsoever. This cannot continue. People need sick leaves, dental insurance, and a working environment where people know that they won’t be eaten randomly by an extra-starving zombie. People are more productive when not under the impression that they could die five minutes from now.

Also, I cannot stress this more clearly: when you guys start to run the show, we need thermal underwear. And clean toilets.

Okay, okay, I know you guys couldn’t care less about the cold since you’re unfeeling reanimated corpses and all, but we can get really cold down there in our fun parts. And really, you guys won’t give a shit (heh) about our feelings towards dirty toilets, but you guys came out of a freaking grave from underground. I mean, it’s got to be full of worms and manure and piss, right? But again, us living people like to keep our toilets clean.

Of course I understand that in the futuristic post-apocalyptic world, clean toilets are pretty hard to come by. I’m pretty sure clean toilets would be the least of our worries, when the basic structure of society would practically turned topsy-turvy. But clean toilets would be a pretty nice gesture.

Also, please don’t confiscate our shotgun reserves. If the countless hours I’ve spent playing Resident Evil ever taught me anything, it would be the fact that a sawed-off shotgun is the best way to blow a zombie’s fucking head off. It’s messy, yes, but it works. I don’t see how I can justify giving your slaves the very weapon that can spell your doom would be a good idea, but hey, just fucking give the stupid shotguns to us, ok?

Sincerely.
Ade

P.S. Please don’t rise up from your graves and eat my spleen. No, really.