***Late, but not forgotten. Oh, well. As consolation, please accept this.***
On top of the watertower, Vazquez looks down on the town with consternation in his face. Chapelle pulls himself up alongside him. He has a big smile on his face.
CHAPELLE
I say, this is quite bracing, isn’t it?
VAZQUEZ
I don’t think that’s the word I would use, Mr. Chapelle.
A loud moaning comes from behind them. A look of utter shock crosses the faces of both men simultaneously. They turn and three topless beauties, a la Petticoat Junction, emerge from the water tower. The waterlogged zombies reach towards them, half maliciously, half lasciviously.
CHAPELLE
Shit!
Chapelle staggers backwards against the rickety wooden guardrail, which instantly gives way. He tumbles to the ground and lands face first, twisting his neck into a horrendous curve.
Vazquez holds up the cross he wears, which causes the Petticoat zombies to hiss and back away slightly.
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