Disclaimer: I own nothing and I LIKE it.

Luna: Yeah…I noticed there's like, no stories for Dead Rising at all. And that, good friends, is a shame. With my notorious rep of doing parodies of well…anything, I've decided to make Dead Rising another victim. (smirks) So, my friend Matt and I, have decided to grace you all with a full length parody of the entire game. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Luna wishes she had a title name

We meet our hero, photojournalist Frank West in a helicopter. He beings snapping pictures faster than a paparazzi on the prowl for Paris Hilton's next scandal, as his pilot, who most certainly is not Brad Victors from Resident Evil who will leave his sorry ass to die in a forest filled with undead, blood thirsty dogs says, " Say, buddy... You mentioned somethin' about research for a story."

Frank nods at this, and says, with a gleam in his eye, " That's right. I got a tip that somethin' big is happening. Even if that something causes me to deal with the undead, crazy people in yellow raincoats, and special ops units who will look to shoot me to death until they drag me on their helicopter."
Haha, Frank. You're the type of guy that makes irony fun!

" In a nowhere little town like that? They sure didn't mention anything about it on TV…" said the pilot, whose name was Ed.

Frank took minor offense to this, and proclaimed, " Well, I'm freelance, pal. I don't make my living waitin' for the TV to tell me what to cover. I use every resource possible to get the most obscure, unknown and potentially dangerous situation for a scoop."

Ed was amused by Frank's attitude and patted him on the arm, " Ha ha! You sound like you'd sell your soul for a story!"

"…Who says I haven't?"
And he might of laughed, if Frank didn't look completely serious. Come on now, you knew there wasn't something exactly right in his head in the first place. Who volunteers to go to a zombie infested mall?

" Here she is. Hahaha! Willamette, Colorado. Population: 53,594. Distinguishing characteristics: Jack shit! Hahahahahaha! About the only thing to do in this town is kill time at the shopping mall." cried Ed, because, apparently, shopping malls and small towns were a funny bone tickler to this guy.

Frank took his trusty camera and pointed it at some military people by a barricade. Snapping away, Ed says, " What was that, the army?"
" No. It was your mom." Frank said, dully.

"…What?"

"Looks like taking a helicopter was the best way to go. I bet they've got all the roads blocked off by now." Frank concluded.

Well, children, let's stop for a second. Wouldn't that be a sure sign of something in creditably BAD happening? Wouldn't you…I don't know, get the hint that maybe you should turn back now?

" Alright listen... I want to get shots of the whole town before the National Guard finishes roping it off. Take me over the main street." Frank decided.

Apparently not. Never underestimate the desperation of a free-lance photo journalist whose lived in a ruddy apartment with a single candle to keep the place lit and who has sufficed himself of instant ramen for 3 weeks straight, which we all know Frank has.

The helicopter flies over a person who happens to be fighting for his life against zombies…on top of a car. Instead of doing anything like a moral individual would, like, I don't know, trying to help that person; they flew from a safe distance and watched. And took pictures.

" Whoa…is that some sort of a riot?" asked Ed, dumbly.

The zombies over take the dude and begin feasting on him. Human flesh. The other white meat.

" Is this what you came to take pictures of?"
As Frank got several points for BRUTALITY he nodded. Nothing gives you points and attention like the destruction of human life, folks.

Ed flies the 'copter by a bus, and cries, " No way! Check that out... Look at all those people. What the hell's happening here?"

" I have no idea... But one thing's for sure. Whatever's going on down there... It's not business as usual in this town." said Frank, finger never leaving the camera's shutter, the prospect of all the money he would get from this story dancing in his head. Break dancing.

" Whoa!" cried Ed, which, was in fact; a rather delayed reaction to see all these zombies milling about.

And then a gas station exploded, which Frank, like the morbid, death loving individual he is; jumped on. What zombie game would it be without the exploding of a gas station? Not a good one, let me tell you.

" Ugh, Holy shit did you see that?!"
No. Frank wasn't taking pictures of the huge ass explosion, he was taking myspace pictures of his own handsome face. Already, I can feel the IQ points dropping like flies.

" Yeah…" answered Frank, wondering why he had to hire Captain Obvious as his pilot.

" I'm gonna take her up for a second…" said Ed, clearly freaked.

" No! Take us down!" cried Frank, suddenly, " We have to check that building so I can take pictures of people's brutal mauling while I do nothing to help them!"
Since no one can argue with such logic, Captain Obvious agreed only to ask, " Where?"
" Right below us…that's what down means…" said Frank, trying hard not to incorporate the word 'dumbass' at the end of the sentence.

So, he files them down to where a woman is being cornered by zombies on a roof. She starts off shooting them, in a frenzy, but then she runs outta bullets. Frank and Ed were, of course, in a perfect position to let the ladder down and you know, help, but hey! What's a good news scoop if people don't die in gruesome ways in your pictures? It wouldn't be a good news scoop at all, if you'd ask Frank. If you asked me, I'd say Frank was a tad of a sadist.

The zombie runs at her, knocking her down, and they both fall to the ground. In a blood spattered, bone shattering, disgusting mess. Frank made sure to take many a picture of it, and kept one for himself.

" Ohhh…" said Ed, as if her falling to her death was a punch-line to a joke that took him several seconds to figure out.

" I want to see the center of town," commanded Frank, clearly unimpressed by the graphic violence he saw here, he wanted some of the action, " Take me there."

" Roger."

" …Its Frank."

Ed didn't even bother to answer that.

Frank then spots a mall. Rapidly taking pictures, he cries, " Hey! Can you take me to that mall!" cause it had a heli-pad. Because God knows every mall has a heli-pad…

" You gotta be kiddin' me? Awww... man. You are nuts." Ed said, sighing.

" Alright, listen... Don't forget to come back for me!" said Frank.

" What do I look like, some chicken heart?" he asked, as somewhere, Brad Victors sneezed, " As you as you ain't dead, Fred."

" I told you, its Frank!" he said, exasperated, " Frank West. Remember my name, cause the whole world is going to know it in a couple days."

Which has shown how far down the path of mad greed dearest Frank was on.

That's when military helicopters flew around him, as Ed tries to get it out of the way, and Frank's brief case went sky diving. And all his instant ramen packets, and, if he's smart, a hell of a lot of guns; went flying to the roof.

Panicking, Frank cried, " Get us back to that roof top!"
" I know I'm gonna get my butt chewed for this one." said Ed, and the mental imagery is priceless.

The helicopter descends, and Frank jumps out. Who the hell does he think he is? Leon Kennedy? And he only did windows…

" Wooo!!" he cried, and lands on flat on his ass.

His 'woo' soon turns to 'ughs.'

" Ugh! What the hell was I thinking?!"
That's when a man, who looks a lot like a more menacing version of Luis Sera from Resident Evil 4, approaches Frank. Frank, who is rubbing his wounded ass.

" Hello there! You're the reporter aren't you?" he asked, curiously.

" Uh…yeah."

" You come here often?" he asked, " Oh, I'm sorry…that came out weird. My English is…eh…You came…alone?"

Frank stared, was he hitting on him…?
" Yeah! I'm freelance… You know... Go into the battlefield alone... No crew…no weapons…no precautions at all… So, uh... What's goin' on around here anyway?" he asked, blinking.

So, the Luis rip-off, whose name is Carlito though he doesn't once introduce himself, says, " You came by helicopter didn't you? What did you see from the sky?"

"Well... If it were just a riot... I doubt the military would quarantine the entire area. The moratorium on information getting out is a little... extreme... in my opinion. There's uh... Somethin' else I can't put my finger on. Doesn't sound like civil disobedience... It's too quiet." decided Frank, who must've never seen a zombie flick in his whole, sad existence since he couldn't put 2 and 2 together.

" Hmm, he, he, he. Almost as if... everyone's already dead." said Carlito, smirking, as if what he said wasn't complete foreshadowing.

" Yeah... So, why don't you just tell me already? What's goin' on?" it seemed Frank DID need someone like Ed around to state the obvious.

"…Man, do I need to spell it out for you?" asked Carlito, clearly taken aback by his stupidity, " Anyway…this my friend…is hell!"

Oh ho, dramatic.

Luna: Okay, reviews? Feed back?…Death threats? )blinks) Next chapter: Enter the Mall. OH YEAH.