When Haitian Maritime Inspector LeHate found a female zombie hiding aboard my cadaver-filled cargo ship, he said, “Abducting zombies from my country is punishable by hanging, but I’ll overlook this if you pay me $5,000 and marry her right now.”
The moment I said, “I do,” and LeHate ordered me to kiss the bride, she bit my lips off, dragged me to the hold, threw me onto a pile of squishy corpses, dropped her gunk-filled drawers, and cackled, “Honeymoon Time.”
Shotgun Wedding,
This is disgusting and brilliant.