Same thing!
(whispering to himself) Suction on three. Revolution on two. Screaming on one. God , I’m good at the apocalypse.
That’s not a weapon. That’s a very aggressive housekeeping tip.
He flicks a switch. The Dyson roars to life. A zombie shambles into frame. The vacuum hose attaches to its forehead. The zombie’s face gets sucked into the canister like a sad, gray smoothie. The Best Apocalypse Ever -Ep.6- -Dezgemadev-
KEVIN (30s, cargo shorts, a tinfoil hat shaped like a sombrero) is duct-taping a Dyson Ball to a mobility scooter.
I will not be censored, Val. We lure them with the Cinnabon aroma—
Let him cook. We move in ten. Grab the vacuum. And someone find me a working Orange Julius. I didn’t survive six episodes to die without a smoothie. FINAL SCENE – THE ESCALATOR TO HELL (LITERALLY, IT’S BROKEN). Same thing
Best. Apocalypse. Ever.
—then we hit the siren on the scooter, and when they lean in to bite the sweet, sweet mobility aid? BAM. Vacuum to the face.
Last time, we learned that zombies hate dubstep. This time, we learn they really hate vacuum cleaners. Screaming on one
points at a crude map drawn in ketchup.
The Y fell off my shirt, not my brain.
See? Disarmed. Metaphorically and literally. Its nose is in the dustbin.
Number three is a war crime.
Was that… Gary?
Same thing!
(whispering to himself) Suction on three. Revolution on two. Screaming on one. God , I’m good at the apocalypse.
That’s not a weapon. That’s a very aggressive housekeeping tip.
He flicks a switch. The Dyson roars to life. A zombie shambles into frame. The vacuum hose attaches to its forehead. The zombie’s face gets sucked into the canister like a sad, gray smoothie.
KEVIN (30s, cargo shorts, a tinfoil hat shaped like a sombrero) is duct-taping a Dyson Ball to a mobility scooter.
I will not be censored, Val. We lure them with the Cinnabon aroma—
Let him cook. We move in ten. Grab the vacuum. And someone find me a working Orange Julius. I didn’t survive six episodes to die without a smoothie. FINAL SCENE – THE ESCALATOR TO HELL (LITERALLY, IT’S BROKEN).
Best. Apocalypse. Ever.
—then we hit the siren on the scooter, and when they lean in to bite the sweet, sweet mobility aid? BAM. Vacuum to the face.
Last time, we learned that zombies hate dubstep. This time, we learn they really hate vacuum cleaners.
points at a crude map drawn in ketchup.
The Y fell off my shirt, not my brain.
See? Disarmed. Metaphorically and literally. Its nose is in the dustbin.
Number three is a war crime.
Was that… Gary?