This one was just too easy and appropriate not to use.
Quote:Your challenge is to write crossover fanfiction combining Shaun of the Dead and Superbad. The story should use a zombie attack as a plot device!
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SpoilerShaun ducked into the mall's handily placed hardware supply store, braining the shuffling creature dressed in the store's uniform with his baseball bat. Its head caved, sending it falling to the floor. Checking behind him to ensure none of them had followed, he started searching the shelved for supplies while cursing his bad luck. He would have been perfectly happy to spend their anniversary at home – out for dinner, then off to The Winchester for a few pints before heading home. But no, Liz had wanted to do something special...â€ÂLet's go visit America!†she'd said. “It'll be fun!†she'd said. It was just his luck that another zombie outbreak had hit while they were there. There wasn't even any good beer around.
He vaulted over the counter of a department that the tacky sign covered in target markers listed as “Guns n' Ammoâ€Â. Grudgingly, Shaun had to admit that at least the ready availability of firearms helped fight off the hordes. He attempted to kick through the display case, only to receive a bruised foot for his efforts. Yelling a curse he took up his baseball bat and drove it through the reinforced glass, retrieving from inside a 12-gauge shotgun and several boxes of ammunition. A noise from behind him made him spin around. The sight that greeted him made him swallow and utter a meek “...ohâ€Â.
The noise of shattering the display case had attracted not only a group of zombified retail workers from a side room (Shaun noted that if it weren't for the changes in their skin tones, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between them and most other American mall-goers) in addition to a group of around ten that had been passing outside. There was only one exit and at least fifteen zombies between it and Shaun. He was, in a word, fucked.
As he gripped the shotgun and prepared to try and fight his way out, the sound of rapid-fire gunshots rang out. Shaun dropped down and hid behind the countertop, whimpering as holes were ripped into the walls behind where he had been standing just a few moments ago. Eventually the noise subsided and he heard a human voice call out. Standing up, Shaun surveyed the bullet holes in the wall – one was right where his head would have been. Spinning around angrily, he started to verbally assault the newcomer. Not the smartest move given that he was heavily armed, but he was furious at how close he'd come to being killed by another survivor.
“What the hell do you think you're doing? You almost took my bloody head off, you...wait, who the hell are you?â€Â
The sight that met Shaun's gaze was one of the strangest things he'd seen yet – and in the middle of a zombie apocalypse in an American mall, that was quite the achievement. The newcomer was short and awkward looking, no more than a teenager. He had dressed himself in a long, black leather coat with a bandana tied around short cropped black hair. The look was totally at odds with his thick glasses, brown slacks and button-down shirt. The kid gave the obvious impression that he'd taken the coat and bandana because he'd seen far too many action movies and thought that's how he should be dressed. He was loosely holding an Uzi in his hands and given the way he was handling the weapon it was immediately obvious that he'd not so much aimed at Shaun as he'd been unable to control the recoil from it. Hell, the kid looked like he'd lose a fight with a wet noodle, let alone a zombie. He met Shaun's gaze and grinned, giving an awkward laugh.
“I'm the one who saved you! I'm the best zombie hunter around! I'm McLovin, bitch!â€Â
Shaun decided he'd been better off with the zombies.
He vaulted over the counter of a department that the tacky sign covered in target markers listed as “Guns n' Ammoâ€Â. Grudgingly, Shaun had to admit that at least the ready availability of firearms helped fight off the hordes. He attempted to kick through the display case, only to receive a bruised foot for his efforts. Yelling a curse he took up his baseball bat and drove it through the reinforced glass, retrieving from inside a 12-gauge shotgun and several boxes of ammunition. A noise from behind him made him spin around. The sight that greeted him made him swallow and utter a meek “...ohâ€Â.
The noise of shattering the display case had attracted not only a group of zombified retail workers from a side room (Shaun noted that if it weren't for the changes in their skin tones, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between them and most other American mall-goers) in addition to a group of around ten that had been passing outside. There was only one exit and at least fifteen zombies between it and Shaun. He was, in a word, fucked.
As he gripped the shotgun and prepared to try and fight his way out, the sound of rapid-fire gunshots rang out. Shaun dropped down and hid behind the countertop, whimpering as holes were ripped into the walls behind where he had been standing just a few moments ago. Eventually the noise subsided and he heard a human voice call out. Standing up, Shaun surveyed the bullet holes in the wall – one was right where his head would have been. Spinning around angrily, he started to verbally assault the newcomer. Not the smartest move given that he was heavily armed, but he was furious at how close he'd come to being killed by another survivor.
“What the hell do you think you're doing? You almost took my bloody head off, you...wait, who the hell are you?â€Â
The sight that met Shaun's gaze was one of the strangest things he'd seen yet – and in the middle of a zombie apocalypse in an American mall, that was quite the achievement. The newcomer was short and awkward looking, no more than a teenager. He had dressed himself in a long, black leather coat with a bandana tied around short cropped black hair. The look was totally at odds with his thick glasses, brown slacks and button-down shirt. The kid gave the obvious impression that he'd taken the coat and bandana because he'd seen far too many action movies and thought that's how he should be dressed. He was loosely holding an Uzi in his hands and given the way he was handling the weapon it was immediately obvious that he'd not so much aimed at Shaun as he'd been unable to control the recoil from it. Hell, the kid looked like he'd lose a fight with a wet noodle, let alone a zombie. He met Shaun's gaze and grinned, giving an awkward laugh.
“I'm the one who saved you! I'm the best zombie hunter around! I'm McLovin, bitch!â€Â
Shaun decided he'd been better off with the zombies.