Zombie Story: Matt, Day Two

Editor’s Note: Hey! It’s me, Metrica again, here with another Zombie Story. While there was no “Matt, Day One,” I liked this piece more than the first one and decided to publish it here for public reading. Enjoy!

By: Jeffersonian Print Staff

Edited By: Metrica

It’s morning and I still feel a little bit tired, but will be all right for the rest of the day.  I woke up and looked out the window and saw about 10 Walkers (Walkers are slow and mostly harmless zombies unless they are in large groups) outside and just decided to go out there and slice their heads off with my katana.  I went searching for some more and killed about 20+ Walkers on the way.  I already felt spent and need to find more supplies.

I found a gas station about 5 miles away from my house.  I searched and searched, but found nothing.  Then I left to find a pharmacy.  It took me about 10 miles from the gas station to find it.  I found some Ibuprofen and took it with me.  I also found some different antibiotics.  It’s about 2:45 in the afternoon so I will probably keep searching for more food.

I finally found a Wal-Mart and took as much food as I could and a little bit of Dr. Pepper.  I also saw a door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY on the front, but it was locked so I couldn’t get in.  I finally went back home and it’s about 7:00 in the evening.  It’s about time to go inside and barricade the door again.  Luckily there weren’t many Walkers on the way.

I hadn’t searched the house yet so I might as well go ahead and search it.  While I was searching I found a deck of cards and decided to play some cards until I found some survivors.  I was playing 52-card pick-up when suddenly I heard a banging noise in the living room.  I checked through the little peephole on my door and it was just a Walker.  I decided to cut a bigger hole in the door so I could see if there were any more walkers out there.  I cut the hole, but when I was done I was looking straight at the walker’s head.

I grabbed my katana and realized that it was my 49-year-old father.  I ran upstairs crying and decided to just leave him be.  “My dad.” I said, “ He’s a Walker.” I felt so bad and didn’t even realize that my parents had left when I was still in Albuquerque.  I went back downstairs and the door was wide open.  “Where is he?” I asked to no one in particular.  And all of a sudden I hear a moaning right behind me.  I turn around and see him and it felt just like slow motion.

He looked really bloody and he didn’t have an arm.  I was so scared that right when I turned around I stabbed him right in the head with my katana.  “I guess it was for the best,” I said and went to sleep.


Sadness in Paris (Part Nine)

By: Sarah G.

Edited by: Colette

The tall, highly decorated black and white ceiling rises high above my head giving me an airy crown as I enter the hotel. The intricate chandeliers hang from rusty chains that hold mounds of dust on their horizontal surfaces. Black marble walls shine with precision and care.  White roses are gracefully shown in contrast to the black background. The unnatural color of the rose bush stems catches my attention. They are painted a metallic silver to make the lobby seem unique and top notch. Red pillows are perfectly placed on the stainless white furniture that are properly placed around the circular room. The person behind the desk is a bulky African American male who is a human giant compared to normal people. The front counter is a polished black granite that is mounted on a hand carved, mahogany base that beautifully outlines the work of the artist.

“Hello, I am here to get the key to my room.”

Ben’s Magical Comedy Column: Commercials, Part III

Editor’s Note: This piece contains hyperlinks (especially in the fourth paragraph)! Try and find them all for maximum entertainment!

By: Ben H.

Putting the Old Spice away, I think we can all say that most commercials are a bit…cheesy. I will start off today with a famous example of excessive cheese: Ben’s Magical Comedy Column Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.

For centuries, Kraft has taught this beautiful nation about important scientific breakthroughs like Jello and Easy Mac dinners. Kraft has made culinary idiots, like me, into master chefs capable of making “store-quality” macaroni and cheese in minutes. Anyway, let us look at some of Kraft’s commercials and in particular, Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.

I was very surprised to see that Kraft Macaroni & Cheese actually has its own Youtube channel. If you want to see more cheesilicious commercials that I have not contained in this article, feel free to waste time watching some of the commercials there. Sadly, this Youtube channel is missing some of Kraft’s funniest and craziest commercials (any frequent reader of this column knows I love crazy and funny stuff). This article investigates some of the most absurd commercials Kraft has released.

First, we have a commercial from the start of the century. Once you have seen that commercial, I highly recommend that you check out this cheesetacular piece. Oh! I remember this one! Whoa! The cheese is all coming back! Ah… Lovable Cheesasaurus Rex. Ok, let’s end this cheesetastic adventure with a montage of some of the most cheesy commercials I can remember.

Zombie Story Day Two: Tyler

By: Eli B.

Edited by: Colette          

It’s only the second day.  I drove to the highway and it looks much clearer.  The occasional abandoned car blocks a lane or two but I can still get around the debris.  After an hour of slow driving, I remember that I need to call my ex-brother-in-law.  On the third ring he picks up.

            “Hello?” he asked




            “Wow man, long time.”

            “Yeah.  Hey, you heard about the virus?” I asked

            “Yeah man.  Left New Mexico the first chance I got.  I’m living with my parents in Seattle.”

            “Oh.  Can I use your house?  I’m planning to –”

            “No! No! No! Lock the door!  Put some pressure on that.  Please don’t die! Please don-” He was cut off.

The line died but I decided to go up to his house anyway.  I drove along I-25 and got off in Santa Fe.  I stopped in Santa Fe at a gun shop that had already been raided save for a few assorted rounds.  I found another 5 for my Mossberg 590 12 Gauge Shotgun which makes 30 in total.

Then I heard it.  Moans and groans growing louder and louder.  I looked down the street to see more than 50 dead people walking down the street towards me.  I took out my Beretta 92FS and started picking off the ones in front.  Out of nowhere a short, black man grabs me and yells, “I am not dead! Don’t shoot me!”  I don’t shoot him.  “You need to stop shooting, or you will just bring in more. If you want to live, follow me.”

I follow him into a raided Wal-Mart.  He drags me through a door marked Employees Only.  Inside is another black man about 5’7”, just a few inches shorter than me.

“I’m Lawrence,” the first man says, “and this is Doug.  Stevie got bit.”

“What do mean bit?” I ask.

“One of the biters.  They done bit him.  We was lookin’ fo’ a place to hide and out of nowhere, a biter comes and bites Stevie on his shoulder! They done bit him!”

“D, lower your voice, we don’t want more of the biters over here.” says Lawrence “He already brought the whole neighborhood with his shooting, because they’re attracted to sound.  A gunshot will bring all the biters to you.”

We exchange information about the whole situation.  I tell them about the houses in Taos and they tell me about the biters.  They tell me I can stay the night if I don’t shoot every time I hear something in the night.  I tell them that I’m thankful and I will be out of their hair by the next day.  At around 5:00 p.m. I go out with my Beretta drawn.  I get in my Tundra and park it right outside the back door.  That night I sleep with my Mossberg 590 shotgun under my pillow and my Smith & Wesson Model 629 at my side.  I am awakened by more moans and groans from the biters and I pull my Model 629 a bit closer to me.