Commander JT--
I knew that I would draw Whistler out with that primitive 21st century blog. I just needed one last comment to track him down. His base is somewhere outside of San Francisco, in a place called Berkeley. It makes sense because most of the people from Berkeley look like trancers anyways. I'm going to head there using an underground tunnel known as BART. I'll keep you up to date on my progress. The future just might be saved yet.
-Jack Deth, Trancer Hunter
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Zombies love girls
Good idea, Troublemaker. Zombies love young chicks, their brains are full of sugar, spice, and everything nice.
The only problem is that Whistler is sure to have guessed this next move. He probably has turned the gym teacher into a trancer. Getting hit by a sled is one thing, try getting hit by a dumbell! Or what if he has gotten to the girls? Being chased by a group of women is every man's dream. Getting chased by out of control trancer women -- well, that's every man's nightmare.
Of course, I may have to risk it. If I don't do something, something fast, then the future is doomed.
Hmmm... troublemaker. Where have I heard that name before..? Wait, wasn't that Whistler's old code name when he was in the galactic service. You're not trying to set me up are you, Troublemaker, or should I say Whistler??
The only problem is that Whistler is sure to have guessed this next move. He probably has turned the gym teacher into a trancer. Getting hit by a sled is one thing, try getting hit by a dumbell! Or what if he has gotten to the girls? Being chased by a group of women is every man's dream. Getting chased by out of control trancer women -- well, that's every man's nightmare.
Of course, I may have to risk it. If I don't do something, something fast, then the future is doomed.
Hmmm... troublemaker. Where have I heard that name before..? Wait, wasn't that Whistler's old code name when he was in the galactic service. You're not trying to set me up are you, Troublemaker, or should I say Whistler??
Investigation, Day One
I killed Santa Claus today. Well, not the real Santa. It wasn't even Christmas time when I was sent from the future to track down Whistler, the commander of an evil zombie horde he calls trancers. I must have been close to his trail because as I passed the North Pole village in the local mall, Santa got up and beamed me on the head with a sled. I knew he was a trancer by his firey red eyes, splotched yellow skin, and rotten egg sandwich breath. I pulled out my gun and pumped jolly ol' Saint Nick full of lead. He fell to the floor and spontaneously combusted. Dirty trancer.
The bad thing about killin' Santa, was that I was left there in a middle of crying children and horrified parents. I had to get out of there before the police came. They'd think I was crazy if I told them my story; that I was a cop sent back in time to 2007 to hunt zombies. They'd lock me up for sure -- and the future would be doomed.
I went back to the mall later to see if my contact was hanging around. I found nadda, looks like I am back to square one. If I don't find Whistler soon, it will be too late.
The bad thing about killin' Santa, was that I was left there in a middle of crying children and horrified parents. I had to get out of there before the police came. They'd think I was crazy if I told them my story; that I was a cop sent back in time to 2007 to hunt zombies. They'd lock me up for sure -- and the future would be doomed.
I went back to the mall later to see if my contact was hanging around. I found nadda, looks like I am back to square one. If I don't find Whistler soon, it will be too late.
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