All posts by taylor

Dead and Dirty in Dubai Part 4: Zombie Barflies

(Just joining us? Go back to the beginning of the story.)


Billy sat in the bar of the hotel, a drink in his hand. He was depressed. His investment had turned out to be a total waste of money. It had destroyed Dubai. Hell, he might even go to prison for it.

The bartender came up to him and put an apple juice in front of him. “It’s from her,” he said, jerking a thumb towards a previously unnoticed woman in the corner.

Billy took a flask out of his pocket and poured some liquor into the apple juice. “That’s more like it,” he said to himself as he walked over to the woman. “So, you come here often?”

“Hey,” she said.

After a moment of awkward silence, his phone rang.


“Billy, it’s the Colonel.”


“Listen, I’m safe in a bunker underneath the facility.”

The woman began to drool on Billy’s shoulder.

“If you can make it here,” continued the Colonel, we can let you in the bunker and we can wait out this nightmare. Together.”

The woman began to groan and paw at Billy. “Hold on,” he told her.

“That sounds great,” he told the Colonel, “Can I bring a friend along?”

“Oh, sure,” said the Colonel, sounding a bit dejected, “The more survivors the better.”

The woman began to nibble on Billy’s neck. “Stop that,” he told her, “I’m on the phone!”

“Anyway,” the Colonel said, “If you can make it here soon that’d be great, it’s kinda lonely down here…”

Billy shut off his phone.

Dead and Dirty in Dubai Part 3: Anarchy in the UAE

(Just joining us? Go back to the beginning of the story.)

Across the city, Alex Patterson — a young, hippy-looking man in his early 20s — stood outside the brand new Stately Hotel, protesting. Over the past few days he had noticed some strange things, like buildings collapsing, explosions and fires, or just how weird people have been acting. Today though, nobody else had shown up to protest with him. He flipped open his phone and called one of his friends.

“Hey,” Alex said, “Where are you? I can’t overthrow capitalism on my own!”

“I’m sick,” the friend said, “Not to mention have you not noticed the chaos taking over the city?”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Alex said, “It means anarchy is winning, I think?”

As Alex was speaking, he felt a hand resting lightly on his shoulder in a provocative manner.

“Hello?” Alex said, turning around, “Are you here to help with the protest?”

Yes…” groaned the man behind him.

“Great! Here, I’ve got some flyers you can hand out,” Alex said, pushing the flyers into the man’s hands, “But I don’t know how well it will work out, the people around here don’t really seem that interested in anything.”

Are you interested?” asked the man.

Oh yes, we’re interested,” growled the people nearby, advancing on Alex. He laughed nervously.

“Well this is great! We can all stand here and protest this hotel then…”

The people moved closer and closer, eventually standing in a huge circle around Alex. They began putting their hands on him and touching him inappropriately.

“Hey, you know, maybe afterwards,” he said, “But uh, right now I’d like to keep my mind on the job?”

The people said nothing, but continued to surround him, becoming more vigorous with their movements.

“Hey look,” Alex said, panicking, “You all are really nice and all, you know, but I think maybe we should have dinner first, get to know each other or something.” He broke out of the crowd and ran into the hotel.

It was worse than anyone thought. These weren’t just zombies. They were sexy zombies.

Dead and Dirty in Dubai Part 2: Man vs. Zombie

(Just joining us? Go back to the  beginning of the story.)

Three weeks later, Bear Grylls and his midwestern cameraman, Tim, were in a helicopter flying over Dubai, en route to their most dangerous mission yet.

“Are you sure about this?” the pilot asked, “The city’s probably under quarantine for a reason.”

“Of course!” shouted Bear, “Think about it, I’ve covered everything! This is the perfect opportunity. Nobody’s ever done a survival guide for a zombie attack. Once I show people how to beat off zombies (and I may or may not mean that in the most sexual way possible) I’ll have taught the world how to survive anything.

“Well gee Bear,” said Tim, “That’s pretty amazing. Once I cut out that gay part that’ll make a pretty good opener. But still, before you’ve just survived the wilderness, dontchaknow, slavering murderous zombies are different!”

“I was in the Navy!” shouted Bear, and that settles that.

“OK,” the pilot said, “I’m gonna touch down on top of that hospital over there. I’m not hanging around here, though. Give me a call on the satellite phone when you need me to pick you up.”

Bear and Tim stood on top of the hospital, looking around to get their bearings.

“Alright,” Bear said into the camera, “First things first you’re going to want to find some food.”

“Since we’re in the city, can’t we just go to a restaurant?” asked Tim.

“Since we’re in the city,” Bear Grylls told the camera, “It’d probably be easiest just to find a restaurant.”

Tim looked over the side of the building and spotted a relatively unharmed place called Luigi’s Bistro over in the distance.

“We’re going to head over to that little place, Luigi’s Bistro, you see over there,” said Bear, showing the camera.

They headed down inside the hospital. There was nothing but silence and darkness as they walked along the corridors, until they came across three zombies smacking a door. The zombies turned and looked at them, then began shuffling towards them.

“As you can see,” Bear said, “During a zombie apocalypse, people can get a little confused. These men over here, for instance, seem to be advancing on us with murderous intent. Luckily, they’re weak from hunger and injury so they’re moving slowly.”

“Uh, Bear?” Tim piped up, “They’re running!”

“Shit!” Bear said, “Nobody told me they’d be so fucking fast! I was expecting the slow kind!” He turns around and starts hacking at the zombies with his knife.

“The important thing to remember about a zombie,” he said, “is that you have to remove the head or destroy the brain. Otherwise they might not really be dead.”

“Try going through the eyes,” advised Tim.

“Stabbing a zombie in the eyes is an effective way to destroy their brain,” Bear said, demonstrating.

After the zombies were dispatched, Bear turned towards the door.

“Hello? Are the zombies gone?” called a voice from behind the door.

“Ah, listen to this,” Bear said to the camera, “These zombies are very different from your garden variety. Not only are they quick instead of slow, they can talk as well!” He turned back to the door. “Yes, come on out.”

Out came a bloody surgeon, wild-eyed and fearful.

“Thank God,” he said, “I’ve been trapped in there for a whole day!”

Bear stuck his knife right up against the man’s throat.

“Alright, hold it right there,” he said, “How do I know you’re not a zombie?”

“Are you daft?” asked the doctor, “How about the fact I’m talking to you?”

“Maybe,” Bear said, “But I’ve already been surprised by your comrades’ speed. It wouldn’t surprise me if you could talk too. You smell like a zombie, anyway.”

“Bear,” whispered Tim, “If he was a zombie he’d be trying to tear your organs out, dontchaknow.”

“Good point,” said Bear, putting the knife away, “I guess two out of three means he’s cool. I’m Bear Grylls. I’d shake your hand, but if I did, I’d probably destroy your entire body.”

“That’s OK,” said the doctor, “I’d rather not have you touching me anyway.”

Dead and Dirty in Dubai Part 1: The Prologue

(Author’s Note: I can’t claim full credit for this story. It’s based on a story several friends and I came up with.)

A few tourists stumbled out of a bar, laughing. In their drunken stupor, they bumped into someone else who was lurching in the opposite direction.

“Hey!” one called, “At least say you’re sorry, jerk!”

In response, the man turned around, jumped on her and began to bite into her skin. The tourists screamed, except one who pointed and laughed.

Three Days Earlier…

A nervous-looking man in a lab coat entered the room where a man known as the Colonel sat.

“I’ve got some news about the research,” the researcher said.

“What’s that?” growled the Colonel.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is that it does what it was intended to do. Subjects become much stronger, faster and more agile. Unfortunately, it also seems to drive them insane.”

“Insane?” asked the Colonel.

“Yes sir. They all become extremely aggressive and attack anyone who comes near. The mouse we injected…”

“What about it?”

“Well, we went in yesterday to check on it, and we found the bars of its cage destroyed. We searched all over the lab for it and we eventually found it and killed it, but not before Jenkins was bit, sir.”

“And how is he?”

“He’s in bad shape. He’s in the infirmary now.”

“I see. Well, if that’s all, I’d like to be left alone.”

The scientist left the Colonel alone. He sat in silence for a few minutes, before his phone rang.


“Howdy.” It was Billy, an American investor from the deep south.

“Ah, hello sir, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” Billy said, “But how’s the research?”

“It’s some really amazing stuff, sir, we’ve made some major breakthroughs. We’re about to test it on humans for the first time, too. You should come see for yourself.”

“Well,” said Billy, unsure, “OK, but first I gotta finish saying the grace over my family’s meal, ya see. Always gotta give thanks to the Baby Jesus.”

“Of course, sir,” said the Colonel, used to Billy’s religious fervor. “So should I reserve you a ticket on the next flight over?”

“That sounds fine,” said Billy.

In the infirmary, a doctor walked in and turned on the light. He walked over to a man who lay in a cot, breathing uneasily.

“How you doing, Jenkins?” asked the doctor sadly. As he turned away, however, Jenkins got up. He grabbed the doctor from behind and bit into his neck.

Merry Christmas

Dear Santa,

How are things at the North Pole? Based on what General Patterson’s been teaching us, I’d imagine that there wouldn’t be many “strategic targets” up there (unless your workshop is one? I would think it’d be pretty important) so I hope you’re doing well. Things down here aren’t that great. A couple of people got dragged away by some crazy cult. We can hear ‘em shouting and singing their crazy mutant songs all night. It’s really scary.

Is it snowing up there? It’s snowing down here, too. Since I’ve lived in Florida all my life I’ve never seen snow but it snowed this year. Mom wouldn’t let me go play in it though. She said that the snow was actually something called fallout and I should stay inside. But I saw Billy and Bobby outside having a snowball fight and they were just fine! Mom can be so mean sometimes.

I don’t really want that much for Christmas. It’d be nice if everyone could be happy for once. I’ve heard Mom and Dad fighting and yelling about lots of stuff. A couple of people are saying that the water purifier’s close to breaking down and pretty soon we’ll all be drinking something called rads. I don’t know what rads is but it sounds pretty bad and all the grown-ups are kind of upset about it.

But I know that world peace and happiness and stuff like that isn’t really what you do, you’re more for the real presents. Well, I guess I’d like a BB Gun for Christmas. That way I could help all the grown-ups protect the shelter. A BB Gun’s not very powerful but I think it would help keep the giant rats away at least. They’re pretty scared of stuff, even though they’re really scary too.

Anyway Santa, I know there’s lots of other girls and boys writing letters to you so I’d better finish this up (also I’m running out of paper and I had to steal this sheet from the commissary. Can you believe they wouldn’t give me even one piece of paper? I hope that’s OK, I know stealing’s wrong, but otherwise there would have been no way! Please forgive me, Santa). Hope Mrs. Claus and the Elves are well. We don’t have any cookies but I’ll try and leave some canned pears out. They’re the closest thing we have.


Timmy Calhoun

Justice Served!

Dorothy stepped out of the house and looked around in amazement. The twister had dropped her in the strangest land she’d ever seen. Everything was bright and colorful. The houses, the candy apparently growing from the ground, even the road was bright yellow. She noticed a few strange, very short people looking at her and smiled at them in what she hoped was a disarming way.

“You killed her,” one of them whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“You killed her!” he repeated, “You killed the Wicked Witch of the East! The horrible woman who enslaved us and mistreated us! She took all the food we grew, took our children and turned them into hideous misshapen flying monsters, kicked our dogs…but now she’s dead!”

“Oh,” said Dorothy, “Well it was an accident, but I suppose…”

“Murderer!” the man shouted.

“What?” Dorothy said, taken aback.

“Murderer!” he repeated, pointing at her accusingly.

“But I thought you hated the witch, I thought you were glad to see her dead!”

“Don’t get me wrong,” the man explained, “The witch was horrible and we are glad to see her dead. But killing someone is a crime, no matter what a monster that person was.”

“OK,” said Dorothy, “this is ridiculous. I’m just going to take her ruby slippers and get out of here.”

“Oh God,” groaned the man, “Now you’re defiling the dead? Police, help!”

Officer Munchkin was on the scene right away and he took the young murderer to jail where she lived out the rest of her days.

Remember kids, crime doesn’t pay.

Rest Stops Aren’t Really Very Restful

blow job, the door of the stall said, flash lights three times. How the hell does that one work? Some whore hangs around this rest stop all day every day waiting for someone to catch her message and flash their lights? Bullshit. If anyone’s hanging around waiting for someone to flash their lights they’re not gonna give you a blow job. That’s for sure.

I step out of the stall door and walk over to the sink and squeeze some god-knows-what chemical mix they call soap out into my hand. I’m struck with dread as no water comes out of the faucet when I turn it on. My worst fear is squeezing soap into my hand and then finding out the water’s been cut off. What the hell are you supposed to do then?

Outside the restroom are a pair of asian men, babbling to each other in some unintelligible language. I always hate being around people who speak a different language. You can never tell when they’re talking about you.

“Jesus Christ,” Stevens mutters as I slip into the passenger seat, “What the hell are they standing around for? Why the hell would anyone stand around at some goddamn rest stop?”

“Flash your lights three times,” I tell him.

“Why?” he asks, but does it anyway.

The asians stop talking and look at us.

“Well shit,” I muse, “It just might work.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks suspiciously as he watches the asians get into their car and drive off. “Look at that, they weren’t even waiting for anyone. What the fuck were they doing?”

“What the fuck are we doing?” I ask as a police cruiser exits the highway and drives towards us. “Damn pigs saw us flash the signal. They’re after us now.”

He starts up the car and starts to drive away.

“Act casual,” I warn him.

God’s Judgement is a Rolled-Up Newspaper

Sometimes when I’m driving I make up stories about the bugs who hit my windshield.

“Man, this is great! I can’t wait to get home and tell Bernice I got a promotion! We’ll be able to send little Timmy to that great private school now. And I’ll finally be able to treat Bernice how she deserves. Take her out to nice dinners, buy her jewelry and fancy dresses, maybe a private romantic vacation once a ye…” *SPLAT*

It’s a shame they always have to end in tragedy.

A Boring Day at the Hospital

“Excuse me,” the man said, “I’m here to see Mr. Henderson.”

Rebecca looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard anyone come in. In front of her stood a tall, thin, elderly gentleman wearing a black suit that had been out of fashion since before the 20th century had even begun.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “Mr. Henderson has passed on.”

“What?” exclaimed the man, taking out a gold pocketwatch and examining it closely. “That’s impossible!”

“I’m sorry sir,” Rebecca said sympathetically, “He passed on just a few minutes ago, in fact.”

The man sighed and put his watch away. “They just get more and more unreliable, don’t they?”

“The doctors do the best they can, sir,” she said, shortly, a little offended.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure they do,” the man said distractedly, looking at something above and behind Rebecca’s head. “Ah, so you decided to show up anyway?”

Rebecca spun around in shock, but saw nobody. She turned back towards the man. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” the man said, grabbing at something in the air and depositing it in a small jar. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another appointment. Sorry to bother you.”

He tipped his hat and walked out the door. Rebecca shrugged and went back to her paperwork.

Let’s give a warm welcome to my friend Taylor, who decided to join me in creating an unstoppable writing empire.