Zombies are in the basement again. So are the shotgun shells, so that’s sort of a problem, but Tony thinks he left a few in the hall closet. If worst comes to worst we can always pull out the old machete, but that makes such a mess. I have clean laundry down there and the kids still need to be put to bed. Lord knows they won’t sleep until they find out what happens, just so they have a story to tell at school tomorrow. I tell you Marie, Tony needs that promotion. Then we can move to a better neighborhood.


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