Fhurt Pownder
Reports are emerging from Shanklin seafront that a small but confused gathering of zombies has begun forming outside the amusement arcade, muttering about “the impending comet” and the “inevitable collapse of civilisation,” though by all accounts they’ve been saying that since 1973.
The self-appointed spokesperson, Zed, a former estate agent turned undead cynic, told Island News via a surprisingly articulate voice note,
“I wouldn’t say we’re worried, exactly. We’re just preparing for the worst, which, given our state, is rather difficult to distinguish from the present.”
Zed, who describes his dating life as “a slow decomposition of mutual misunderstanding,” has been using the popular app Tinder (Brains Edition) to meet other lonely hearts, or at least lonely ventricles. He reports mixed success.
“One girl said she was into long lurches on the beach. We got halfway to Sandown before my left fell off, literally, don't worry, I glued it back on!. It’s hard to swipe right when your thumb detaches mid-scroll.”
The zombies, despite their apocalyptic anxieties, are an oddly trusting bunch. Residents have reportedly convinced them of all sorts of nonsense: that Wi-Fi signals contain vitamin D, that the Isle of Wight is slowly tilting westward, and that one can recharge a phone by burying it in sand and chanting “Nokia” three times.
Shanklin’s human population remains mostly unbothered. “They’re harmless,” said café owner Janice Blythe. “They just stand around debating whether the BBC is secretly run by necromancers. Then they order oat milk lattes and tip with loose fingers. Lovely crowd, really.”
Meanwhile, Facelook, the social media platform long popular among the undead, has been trending with the hashtag #ApocalypseMaybe. Posts include blurry selfies captioned “Still waiting for the comet, LOL” and a heartfelt poem titled “Existential Dread (and Chips).”
As dusk fell, Zed and his companions shuffled back toward the pier, pausing only to check Lurch of the Day for discount meal deals.
“We don’t really fear the apocalypse,” Zed admitted, staring wistfully at the horizon. “We fear it won’t live up to the hype. I mean, what if the comet’s late?”
Island emergency services advise locals to remain calm, avoid sharing conspiracy theories with zombies, and, if approached, simply nod sympathetically until they lose interest or fall apart.
