I killed 15 zombies last night.
This has become a favorite pastime, and it’s not unusual to find the entire family joining forces to take out herds of the undead.
It has become nightly entertainment with each of us trying to beat the body count of the others. The Hubs, of course, is leading in that effort. He went on several solo missions when the Young One and I headed north to visit her grandparents. When we came home three days later, he eagerly showed us the carnage he had wrought. His best effort yielded 25 walkers.
Now, the Young One and I are trying to catch up. Turns out she’s pretty handy with a cross bow, and I’m definitely the one you want with you in the tunnel. Still…even on my best night I’ve only been able to take out 16.
Oh, wait…did I forget to mention, I’m talking about pinball? There really is no zombie infestation in western OH.
Some people buy appliances when they move into a new home. We opted for a Walking Dead pinball machine instead.
It comes complete with growling walkers, a prison under siege and a tunnel to *gulp* Terminus.
I was skeptical about the purchase until I actually played a few rounds. I have to admit nothing gets the adrenaline flowing quite like the computerized zombie hunting guide exclaiming, “Dude! His head just exploded!”
Everyone is invited to help thin the zombie herd. However, there’s just one rule when you step up to the newest toy in the house. Whatever you do…