Disclaimer: I was not on drugs or intoxicated before deciding to write this. Seriously – just thought I'd put that out there.

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CAMERAMAN: ….umm, sir? You're on right now….

LEAFS: Oh shit, really?! Crap! Okay, okay, start again… Jesus, what do I pay you people for?!

CAMERMAN: You don't actually pay us, sir… that'd be nice, though. You know I've got kids to feed and all…

LEAFS: Silence, peasant! Let's just do it again… ahem….

Welcome, faithful readers! If you're just tuning in, then you've come at the perfect time! We're about to make a historical documentary on the life (or death, I should say) of the various monstrosities that now roam freely across the land!

How is this possible, you might ask? Well, this is Fan Fiction, and so we are automatically granted special powers that allow us to do anything we desire!

Besides, I am almost completely certain that at this point in the apocalypse, I'd probably be one of the fascinating beasts we are about to observe, so consider me your personal imaginary tour guide or some shit. Whatever floats your boat, really.

Now, before we get started, there will be some precautions we'll need to take. In order to be absolutely certain that we won't be treated as enemies by these creatures, we must first disguise ourselves as they are. If you have any walker guts somewhere around your house or apartment, please – for your own protection – cover yourself now.

And no – covering yourself with last night's spaghetti dinner doesn't count as being covered up. That's just dumb – obviously they'll come try to eat you first. I mean, duh!

Okay, are we all set now? Good, now we can finally get started.

Walkers – that's the common name given to the undead monsters that now patrol the entirety of the United States, and possibly the rest of the world (we really have got no clue what's happening anywhere else, but let's move on). Characterized by their horrible scent, loud, obnoxious growls, decaying bodies and killer fashion sense, these things actually used to be people. Crazy, I know, but it's true! It's some kind of super-bad, messed up disease or some shit that's infected everybody like the plague, and when the unfortunate thing of dying falls upon a person, you come back… as a walker!

How damn cool is that, huh?! Congratulations – you've just become a flesh-eating zombie that has absolutely no control over its own body!

Oops… can't say the word zombie in this universe… Better take that part out…

*Cuts to black*

Alright, we're back! To get things moving along, we've decided to introduce the gentleman that we'll be following today. Everyone, this is… umm, let's call him Bob.

Say hello, Bob!

"Wraaaaaagggghhhhh…"

What's that? ….oh, I see.

My camera crew is telling me that walkers apparently don't speak English… or really any other known language for that matter, so, uhh…

Moving on!

So, why are we calling him Bob when that most likely isn't his true name?

Well, let me counter that with a question of my own – who gives a flying f* #?! Seriously, walkers are not people anymore! It's like saying a caterpillar is the exact same as a butterfly – that makes no sense, does it? Butterflies have got pretty wings and can fly around, while caterpillars just eat and move around on branches and stuff!

Now, we're here with Bob up in a forest somewhere in North Carolina, very close to a frozen lake. There's a good chance of snow in the forecast for the northern part of the state sometime soon, so Bob here may become a little bit slower in the near future. That means that he may have some trouble being able to find food – a.k.a. humans – to feast on. Hopefully that won't be much of a problem for…

*drops microphone on his thigh*

Well, it seems that Bob is wandering off, so how's about we follow him and see where he leads us?

Usually, walkers like Bob here will eat almost anything that moves except for its own kind – cannibalism isn't even tolerated for the walkers, so they at least have some standards. But Bob's favourite meal would have to be people, and he's really not picky when it comes to who. Lurkers will eat men, women and even children if they feel like it, and what is incredible is how much they are actually able to eat. Typically leaving no scraps behind and cleaning their palate, walkers can do it again and again with no consequences. Their stomachs are literally never full; their hunger always relentless as they move from target to target.

Bob, like his brothers and sisters, also has an acute sense of smell – he can pick up the scent of a human from nearly a mile away. However, and this should be pointed out, his brain is incredibly small and deteriorating, so his perception is often diminished. This forces him to often follow loud noises in order to track his prey, such as the gunshot that he must have heard a little while before we started this documentary.

It looks as though we're cutting through the treeline now and joining numerous others of Bob's species as we prepare to get down the hill towards the lake. On an individual basis, these beasts can be relatively easy to take down due to their slow pace. But often in the cities or along crowded highways, walkers come and hunt in packs to assert their dominance over the humans; often overwhelming them or forcing the scared homo sapiens to flee.

It also appears as though there's a small group of humans out on the lake right now… one seems to be wearing a small baseball cap with the letter "D" on it… Interesting.

Bob is somewhere in the middle of the pack this time, which most likely will be a blessing for his survival chances. The same way that hordes of walkers can be difficult to take on, groups of humans can inflict enormous damages of their own. This particular group looks rather exhausted, and… oh my! One has partly fallen through the ice and looking as though he's in peril.

Let's try and listen in on what the man in the orange sweater has to say, as Bob and his buddies slowly march towards him.

"Pull out your gun and shoot those damn walkers, okay? Just gimme a little time!"

"You need help, Luke!"

"NO! Do not come over here! Bonnie, stop tellin' her that!"

Oh dear… two of our walkers have taken a tumble into the depths below, and it seems that the redhead is firing off at the rest of the group. The little girl has decided to walk over towards the sinking man, and… God damn it, Bob! Why didn't you watch where you were going?!

Ugh… get ready to dive down, faithful readers! I hope you brought your scuba gear!

…Brr… that's damn cold! I don't know how the man in the orange sweater hasn't gotten pneumonia yet, as he and his young charge unfortunately plummet together into the frozen lake.

Bob and a handful of the other monsters see their targets and move over to strike. He grabs a hold of the child's leg as she tries to break her way to the surface, but unfortunately this kid is stronger than she appears to be.

The sweater man pulls Bob off and hugs him close to his chest before throwing him downwards in a ruthless fashion, but our pal is a fighter and doesn't give up so easily. This is nature at its finest, is it not?! Both sides fighting to the bitter, inevitable end.

But in nearly all circumstances in this day and age, the dead always win.

Grabbing a hold of the man's injured leg, Bob pulls him down for a final assault; hungrily watching as the human in a panic glances upwards to the young girl. Deeper into the depths we venture as the air starts to escape the man's lungs, and it isn't long before Bob sinks his teeth into the man's shoulder.

Today, Bob gets a main course meal.

LEAFS: Well, ladies and gentlemen, I hope this documentary was a valuable lesson to you – if at first you don't succeed, then just quit altogether!

CAMERAMAN: Uhh… sir? I don't think that's really what they learned from all of this… In fact, I don't think they learned a damn thing…

LEAFS: Who pays you to talk back to me, peasant?! Anyways, tune in next week for an exciting look at… whatever it is that's on next week. Like I give a damn what you watch.

CAMERAMAN: Fuck this, I quit…