TABLE OF CONTENTS: Foreword PART 1 — “CAN YOU DESCRIBE THE RUCKUS, SIR?” 1st Entry — NOT SUN TZU 2nd Entry — WOMAN WITH A SORT OF PLAN 3rd Entry — BATTLE OF THE BOG 4th Entry — VICE, VICE BABY 5th Entry — NOW WHAT? 6th Entry — SCHOOL’S OUT BITCHES 7th Entry — OLD MCDONALD HAD A HARD ON PART 2 — THE PUG LIFE 8th Entry — PARTICLES PART 3 — NEGATIVE ENERGY 9th Entry — I THINK IT’S JULY? 10th Entry — SERIOUSLY? THE LAST RESPONSE 11th Entry — OUR INTREPID ADVENTURERS 12th Entry — WELCOME TO THE DARK SIDE, WE HAVE ZOMBIES 13th Entry — NOT A TED TALK, A NATE TALK 14th Entry — SPECIAL FRIENDS 15th Entry — HELL’S KITCHEN PART 4 — KING SHIT OF TURD MOUNTAIN 16th Entry — REFLECTION 17th Entry — TAKING STOCK July 28th, 2010 — GORILLA WITH A GUN July 29th, 2010 — HAPPY, WITH A TWIST July 31st, 2010 — BORED! August 1st, 2010 — SHOOTY McFUCKFACE August 4th, 2010 — INTEL, AKA “BORING” August 6th, 2010 — DECLARATION OF WAR August 13th, 2010 — THREE ACES August 15th, 2010 — TO ZOMBIE, OR NOT TO ZOMBIE, THAT IS THE QUESTION August 19th, 2010 — DOOR NUMBER NINE August 20th, 2010 — THE DOG’S BOLLOCKS August 21st, 2010 — KING SHIT AND THE OLD LION August 22nd, 2010 — MISSION PREP A PARTICULAR SET OF SKILLS PART 5 — BEYOND THE GATE August 26th, 2010 — THE FALL OF TURD MOUNTAIN August 27th, 2010 — NEW ARRIVALS September 1st, 2010 — LOVE, ACTUALLY September 3rd, 2010 — DIRTY HARRIET September 5th, 2010 — KADIE EVIL BE TO HIM September 7th, 2010 — I’M SORRY, YOU’RE WHAT? September 10th, 2010 — GRAVEYARD HUMOUR September 12th, 2010 — OH. MY. GOD. September 12th, 2010, 2nd Entry — FINAL GRIDLOCK September 15th, 2010 — FIELD TRIPS September 18th, 2010 — PAIN September 20th, 2010 — NO September 21st, 2010 — GRIEF September 23rd, 2010 — DEAR READER About the Author About Chris Philbrook Also by Carl Meadows Dedication Acknowledgements Foreword If you’ve followed my writing career at all, then you probably know that I am an old-school gamer. Pen and paper role playing games, miniatures battles, geeky card games, all that. My passion of them all however, is role playing games. As Dungeon Master, or Game Master, I would get to tell a vivid, collaborative story with friends, and sometimes strangers. We’d eat Doritos, and Mountain Dew until late in the night, experiencing entire worlds of imagination over and over. Writing is kinda like that, but one-sided. I create the setting, devise the plot, and give life to the characters. One-sided. But when I do the anthologies set in the world of AUD, I get that reciprocity. I see people take my setting, sometimes my plot, and sometimes my characters, and they run with them, creating stories inspired by me. It’s like imagination-tennis, and boy, is it some hella fun. When Carl wrote his submission for Dead Lucky, it was instantly included. That turned out to be just an excerpt from this novel. That turned out to be the first part of a series, all set in the world of AUD, all nearly perfect to what I could’ve imagined. Talk about satisfying. And, while we’re speaking of satisfaction, I am certain that you’ll all enjoy the story of Nate, Particles, and of course, Lockey. May the Ring family always invite in characters like them. Thank you, Carl. Let’s let the world get a peek inside that imagination of yours now. -Chris PART 1 “CAN YOU DESCRIBE THE RUCKUS, SIR?” 1st Entry NOT SUN TZU Hey. It’s 2010. It’s June. I think it’s like the 24th? 25th? Honestly, I’m not sure. My phone is dead and there’s no power to charge it. And who wears a watch these days? Anyway. Two days ago, the world shit the bed. I’m not talking about an accidental shit the bed, dear reader, like a fart gone wrong that leaves a little chocolate streak on the sheets. Oh no, I’m talking about waking up from a major girly night and realising you’re riding the wave of a faecal tsunami that’s drowned every part of the bed you’re in. I’m talking a half hour of screaming and anal incendiaries as you purge your system. And the situation is made worse because that guy you liked? The one you finally hooked up with and came back to your house? Your hunky chunk of man beef? Yeah. He’s been sandblasted by your rectal volcano. That’s how bad the world has shit in its bed. I’ve no idea what happened, or why it’s still happening, but the world has become a horror movie. I’m talking a legitimate zombocalypse. The dead are up, shuffling about, lunging—yes, lunging—and fucking eating people. No, wait, that’s not right. They start eating people, yet as soon as the victim is dead, the meal comes to an end. Then it’s like they just wait for their newest recruit to sit back up after a bit of twitching and join the silent shambling mass, looking for the next victim. Movie zombies all shuffle around moaning, arms outstretched, or hissing like I do when someone’s stolen my last tampon. Not these ones. These are ninja zombies, hungry stalkers that sneak up on you if you don’t constantly pay attention. I nearly walked right into one downstairs last night and just managed to get my hand on its chest, pushing it away while it snapped its jaws at the empty air in front of my face. Pant shitting stuff. Most of the guy’s face had been chewed off, leaving a bloody half-skull snapping its teeth together in the air. There’s something inherently chilling about teeth smashing together over and over like that, plus Skeletor looked at me with such fury. Weirds me out how they always seem so rage-filled when you get up close. They’re dead and should be empty, but it’s like there’s something… there. Something… wrong. Eesh. My butt is puckering just at the thought. I’m just spilling all this out as it comes to me, trying to make sense of all this bullshit. The world is ending. Everywhere is fucked. Everywhere. The world is a porn star being aggressively boned in all available orifices and there’s still a queue impatiently waiting for summary insertion. Hey there, unknown
