Attention zombies: Do you have what it takes to make it in today's fast-paced world? Do you have the survival skills necessary to rise to the top of the food chain? Zombies are literally everywhere, and the brain market is more competitive than ever. Make the most of your undead life. Enroll in Copernicus Thunderbird Zombie Institute today.
Are you tired of eating rats and squirrels all day? I know I am. Here at Copernicus Thunderbird Zombie Institute, I will personally instruct you in the ancient ways of the zombie. Within six months you will be elevated to the ranks of the undead elite, or my name isn't Copernicus Thunderbird, which according to my ex-wife, therapist, and police record, it isn't. That's not important right now.
Have you encountered zombie discrimination? Of course you have. You're a dirt-sucking maggot farm with chronic grave stench. You're stupid and useless. Nobody will hire you, you can't get a date, and strangers want to kill you. At Copernicus Thunderbird Zombie Institute, you can get a PhD in payback.
Here's a short quiz to get you started.
1. What kind of zombie are you?
- I'm a corpse that was reanimated by toxic waste.
- I was bitten by and/or had sex with a zombie and contracted a zombie virus.
- I am a voodoo zombie.
- I am a dead guy possessed by a demon.
2. How physically fit are you?
- I'm slow. I stagger around aimlessly and fall down a lot. I'm not very good with doors and stairs.
- I'm fast. I like running and screaming. People think I freebase angel dust.
- I have no legs. I crawl everywhere I go. I'm handi-capable.
- I can fucking fly.
3. Can you use a firearm?
- No.
- I could try, but I would just end up shooting myself in the face.
- I would just eat it instead.
- Maybe.
4. Can you follow simple instructions?
- No.
- Not really.
- What?
- Maybe.
5. Would you like to overthrow the government?
- Sure.
- I don't care.
- I guess.
- I'm hungry.
You need this course. Your life just might depend on it. Humans are more dangerous than ever, and they all know about your secret weakness: shotgun to the face. They ALL have shotguns now.
Make no mistake, the humans will hunt you for sport. Will you know what to do? After taking my class, you will.
If accepted, you will learn the following skills:
- How to rob a liquor store and bring me a bottle of Wild Turkey without breaking it.
- How to break into my ex-wife's house and eat her face while she's sleeping with her new rich boyfriend Chad.
- How to eat Chad's brains before he can call the cops.
- How to burn down my ex-wife's house by setting yourself on fire and running in circles.
- How to find your way back to the liquor store and fetch me another bottle of Wild Turkey as I sob myself to sleep in a naked drunken haze.
But there's more!
We also perform all sorts of cool illegal experiments! Shit like:
- Shark head transplants.
- Hooking you up to a car battery.
- Zero gravity astronaut training.
- Feeding you different types of poisons and household chemicals to see what happens.
- Organ removal.
- Chainsaw hands.
- A shitload of drugs.
Alright, you're almost there! Still interested in those scholarships? I've got ten jars of brains for the first ten applicants, courtesy of the biology lab I stole them from a few days ago. Now because this is a very exclusive academy, and because I have several outstanding warrants which force me to keep a low profile, I can only accept ten students this semester.
Photo credit: Kathryn Findlay
Just one more thing: NO vampires. Had enough of you goth pansy weirdos and your angsty poetry. Especially you glittery day-walkers with your hair gel and your tight pants, like some Anne Rice freakshow gone full-on Disney. Zombies only. You got that?
If interested, come to the big red dumpster behind the Happy Cat Exotic Massage Parlor next Monday at 3:33am sharp. I'll be the dirty weird looking guy with vomit in my beard, possibly carving Celtic runes into my arm with a rusty steak knife. Also possibly eating a kitten. I used to take medication for that. That's not important right now. What is important is Wild Turkey. And my ex-wife is a bitch. And fuck Chad.
And remember, I'm on your side. Sure, my entire family was murdered by zombies when I was four years old, but hey… that's in the past. It's not like I went crazy or anything. I don't hold a grudge against any of you putrid rotting cadaver puppets. I've moved on. Buried the hatchet, as they say. The razor sharp bloody hatchet stained with brain matter and corpse rot. It's a good axe. If you like I can show you. You have to see it up close to admire the craftsmanship.
I swear to god if you try to eat my brains I'll kill you with my mind. I have psychic death powers. I will make your head explode with my thoughts. Do not fuck with me. You are now under my command and you will do my bidding. You are nothing. You are my mindless zombie slave. Obey me or die.
I'll see you at the liquor store.
XOXO
Copernicus Thunderbird, Homeless Lunatic Wizard