Jesus forgive me, I am a scavenger

By Tan Ah Kao, Ricemedia special correspondent

Testing…testing…is this thing on?

Apolgy for bad english

Where wer u wen singapor die

I was at house resell facemask wen phone ring

“Singapor is kil”

“No”

If you find this, wow, Ricemedia has much funkier servers than I thought.

I was gonna do that World War Z thing where I did the narrative of how easily an improvised spear will pop through an infected sod’s left eyesocket, but honestly hashtag relatable doesn’t work out as well when you’re stuck in Yishun rather than the far Canadian north.

Maybe ‘Zombie’ is an offensive term, because it implies that they’re brainless automatons, when in fact they’re just intelligent enough to be demonstrably stupid. That’s probably just semantics, though.

In a fit of shattered lucidity, I discovered that pan-fried Cordyceps and human brains actually pairs pretty well with the lentils you tend to see in veggie patches around here. I felt terrible for days afterwards, but I haven’t caught myself going “huuuuurrrrrrrrr” yet so it probably worked out for the best.

Did you know that the Israelis developed this crazy drone thing that lets you employ high-explosive fragmentation micromissiles on the undead and unsuspecting? It’s super cool, and now that the Leopard 2s have officially run out of fuel it seems a healthy alternative to just running them over.

I hear there’s a cure out there, probably sitting comfortably in a water cooler next to Heng Swee Kiat’s almost entirely mummified corpse in Parliament, but walking’s been so tough on my candy-coloured Uggs, and the CBDs are so much harder to traverse than the boondocks, what with all the smartly dressed shambling corpses.

It’s almost surprising how quickly people forget how to survive. Back when I’d bike to Jurong to trade salted duckmeat with the savages there, I’d see the strange scav bands over there. Did you know one of those clown retinues now worships a statue of Farquar some misguided talent carved out of pigbones and gravel? It actually didn’t look that bad, except they’d not quite scoured the meat clean.

Did you know that frenching someone is enough to mix saliva and infect them? I’m sure at least a couple of those annoying PDA couples found out, god lay them to rest. I once found two half-rabid hunters going right at it, but I’m not usually a voyeur, so I broke their heads in with a brick and wiped the viscera off their scoped Winchesters.

How’d this turn into a poor man’s PUBG game? Ok, though it’s now in the 2030s I think, so maybe this unsubtle pop culture reference just isn’t relevant anymore. The roving bands of idiots who chanced upon arms depots are fun enough to watch from a distance,

Our plan for the East Coast fell apart pretty quickly once the entire shelf just fell into the sea. I have no clue how they pulled that off, but apparently they got it from the Pakistanis, who got it from NATO or something. You could pick out the bodies for days, but I

Today, I performed unspeakable things for a craftswoman in exchange for her cockles, then when she went to pull up her overalls I got her in the jugular with that old Pilot pen I keep for weird days like these.

God help us, death is real and its name is Vivian Balakrishnan, or maybe it was some other dude whose (slightly hoarse) voice rang out across the wasted streets like a fat old ether. “We do not wish to hurt you”, as if we all didn’t hear the distant pop-pop-don’t-stop of reservists who forgot how to turn off full auto on their SARs. 

Where were you when the Bionix rolled in with black-clad boys? (See, it just doesn’t have the same ring to it as, like, a Bradley or something.) Look beneath the balaclava and you’ll see a scared kid fresh out of JC, and you just can’t bring yourself to beat them to death with a drainpipe when they give you the puppy eyes. 

Did you know .300 Win Mag AP will go straight through those lads’ chest plates? Not gonna lie, it felt cool watching the old sergeant literally blow up.

At least bum-whacking scavs and taking their backpacks doesn’t get old, especially when their much more competent friends go looking for you but aren’t aware just how deep the sewers in these parts go. 

Today I scouted out this cool base where I saw a group of people huddled together around this big dumpster fire like a pack of hobos! How civilization turns and burns, how humanity is no more than a shivering pack of monkeys. I even stole a bagful of radishes from their patchy old farm when they weren’t looking. Turns out their literal garbage corrugated wall isn’t that hard to take down.

Tomorrow night, I’ll either go in and cut out their craftsmens’ hamstrings or maybe I’ll take a dump in their water supply. To the latter, I found a dead hog near the source, so maybe they’ll notice it when the maggots show up with mysterious brown stains.

Anyways, it’s been fun. Gotta go now, maybe next time when I learn how to transmit photos I’ll give you a tour of my crib.

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