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Tests: When I started thinking way too much about Zombies: Me think too much about Zombies, impossible What started my zombie fixation: Movie White Zombie, http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0023694/ Favorite Zombie book: The one I am reading or the last one I read. Favorite Zombie movie:White Zombie Favorite quote in any zombie movie: Your driver believed he saw dead men... walking. Trace Atkins Songs about me The Highwaymen Highwayman Adam Ant Room at the Top We did it to ourselves Joe Bethancourt The Little Red Hen sat at her kitchen table cleaning her guns. The Remington 870 Express Magnum 12GA had already been cleaned and reloaded with 00 Buckshot and the AR-15 was next. Her EAA Witness in .45 ACP in the holster on her hip luckily hadn’t been fired and wouldn’t require cleaning. She sat the AR-15 on the stand in front of her and slid the pins out, separating the two halves of the rifle. In no time she had the bolt carrier and bolt disassembled and with the application of some Hoppes #9 and some brass brushes, the carbon fouling became a memory. After she had cleaned the barrel and the rest of the rifle, she lubricated all the parts and reassembled it. After a quick wipe down to remove stray lubricant, she function tested it and slapped in a freshly loaded magazine. There, she was fully operational once more. It’d all started the week before when she’d heard a knock on the door. When she opened the door the government Weasel on her front stoop informed her that he was there to collect some of her “pie” to give to the Duck, Cat and Dog. Apparently they hadn’t taken it well when she had refused to share her food with them, even though they had declined to help her plant, care for, harvest and process her grain. Now, with winter approaching and starvation looming, they were desperate for something to eat. No amount of reasoning or cajoling would convince the Weasel that the Duck, Cat and Dog didn’t deserve any of her food. “When you spread the wealth around, it’s good for everybody!” the Weasel said, and when she protested further, he’d called in two Jack Booted Wolves who had forced there way into her home and ripped the door off of her pantry. It was then Weasel noticed her shotgun over her mantle and a couple of back issues of American Rifleman laying on the kitchen counter. “Ah, so you’re a gun owner!” he crowed with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Our Dear Leader has authorized common sense gun control legislation to keep dangerous weapons out of the hands of criminals and children. You wouldn’t have any of those dangerous “Assault Weapons” in your gun safe, would you?” The Little Red Hen was flabbergasted. Who had ever heard of such a stupid thing in their entire life? All the children around these parts went hunting after school and used firearms to protect their property and themselves. In fact, as a young chick she had been on her schools rifle team and thought nothing of bringing her .22lr to school with her. …and what the hell was an “Assault Weapon” anyway? “I most certainly do not! Besides, I have my second amendment rights!” she sputtered with her wingtips at her hips. It was then her feathers shifted slightly and exposed her pistol at her hip. “GUN!!!” the JBW’s screamed and they rushed her. She backpedaled into the front room and managed to reach her shotgun before they reached her. She turned, flipped off the safety and squeezed the trigger. The first JBW took the load of buckshot dead center of his furry face, and the results were truly horrifying to behold. The Little Red Hen pumped the action and loosed another load of buckshot at the other JBW, but his vest stopped the pellets. With a growl he knocked the shotgun from her wings and tackled her. She struggled with him and managed to break free. She ran to her bedroom at the back of the house and grabbed her AR-15 from her closet. As he charged up the hallway after her, she ventilated his hideous form with several 5.56mm rounds. The poor JBW didn’t have a chance as his vest was only rated to stop handgun rounds. Each round left the muzzle of her Bushmaster traveling in excess of 3,200 fps and punched through his bullet proof vest like it was cheesecloth. She stepped over his twitching body and entered the kitchen, where she found the Weasel crouched up against her kitchen cabinet. “You wouldn’t shoot me, would you?” he pleaded, voice trembling. Without saying a word she punched a .22 caliber hole neatly between his eyes and he slumped to the floor. The remains of the Weasel and the two JBW’s now decorated her front gate as a warning to other intruders, the crows pecking at their lifeless eyes. She climbed up the ladder behind her house to the roof where she set up shop. Several rifles of various calibers lay arranged neatly beside her along with several remote controls. Being a farmer did have certain benefits, one of which was the ready access to large amounts of Ammonium Nitrate and Diesel fuel. She’d arranged several surprises for her soon to be arriving visitors, who she could hear on the Police scanner discussing how to proceed with her arrest and murder. She was as prepared as she was ever going to be, but if all else failed there was one last surprise she’d cooked up. He entire basement had been converted into a large bomb. If she triggered that one, people in the next state would hear it. Soon the authorities arrived, broke down her gate and rushed her house. Witnesses later say there was intense gunfire that day, as well as several explosions which rocked the Earth around The Little Red Hen’s farm and lifted several patrol cars into the air in flames. Toward the end, the Little Red Hen was mortally wounded and the Police began to close in on her. When they approached the house, a tremendous explosion which registered on the Richter scale rocked the ground and the shock wave blew out windows for miles around. In the end, almost all of the Weasel in Chief’s minions he’d sent that day didn’t go home alive. …and all because they pushed one Little Red Hen too far. Click on patch to go to order page. Duckworks Magazine Plans and designs for building your own small boat, plus articles with helpful tips and instructions The Sunflower Seed Huller and Oil Press Make your own press and huller for extracting oil from plants. Miscellaneous Plans From the University of North Dakota, many from the 30's and 40's for small farms and homesteaders.
Latest page update: Mar 2 2011, 7:10 PM EST
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