Independence Day (8)

The Zombie Apocalypse was here. The inebriated undead attempted to move right into our campsite. Well OK, they might not have been quite undead, but they were in a drunken stupor as they crept towards us. With mush for brains, they were zombies as far as I could tell…and we might just be their next meal. Mom was having none of it.

About Whittoons

Cartoonist, and community organizer who has covered the globe as a doodlebugger, gandydancer, supernumerary steward, Able Bodied Seaman, Wireman, monkey man, Night Baker and dishwasher, Hobo, hitchhiker and husband.
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