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Enter The Dream Realm Vol. 69 – The Hardy Zombie Apocalypse: The Movie (Act I)

Volume Sixty-Nine (heh heh heh heh)

The Hardy Zombie Apocalypse: The Movie (Act I)

10/24/2010

The scene opens with Morpheus sitting at his computer, typing frenetically. The camera zooms in to focus on the words appearing on the screen.

He hits the button to post, and leans back in his chair proudly, smiling to himself over a job well done.

Morpheus: That Ving Rhames line is classic.

Uncle Joe: Fuck, man. Way to rape me and Hustle on this.

Morpheus: What? Rape? What are you talking about?

Hustle: We were supposed to do a joint bit on the Hardys, but instead you went all Hung Solo on us.

Morpheus: Nah, guys, I’m still down for that. I was just writing a short bit, and it turned into this. It just kept flowing, so I kept going. We gotta figure out what we’re going to do for our collab, though, for sure.

Hustle: Are we going the serious route or the funny?

Uncle Joe: Nigga, look who you’re askin’.

Hustle: Fair enough.

Morpheus: Alright, fellas. You bounce around some ideas, and I’ll be right back. I gotta piss like a Mexican on Cinco de Mayo.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s Latino.

Hustle: Damn.

Morpheus: Sorry, man. My bad. I’ll be back.

Uncle Joe: Get outta here with your Ginger Piss, nigga. We got this.

Morpheus heads to the bathroom to take care of business, while Hustle takes his place at the computer.

Uncle Joe: That leads me to a philosophical question. Can one be both a ginger and a nigga at the same time?

Hustle: If anybody could, it’s Morph.

Uncle Joe: Wait, was that a compliment or an insult? Or gay?

Hustle: Yes. Now think, son. How are we gonna roll this Hardy column? I got shit that needs gettin’ done.

Hustle opens up a new file on the computer and begins typing out bullet points, while Joe leans in close and takes a picture of his sneakers.

Hustle: What’s up with your shoe thing, Joe?

A noise comes from down the hall, like something landing hard on the floor. Hustle and Joe look at each other questioningly, both shrugging with ignorance. Morpheus comes back in from the bathroom.

Morpheus: What was that noise? Man, why do you guys always have to fuck with my shit? You don’t see me going to Joe’s house and pissing in his shoes, do you? Or going to Hustle’s house and burning his John Cena sheets.

Hustle: Actually, you did do that.

Morpheus: God, are you EVER going to let that go? You bring that up every time we talk!

Hustle: But you brought it up, I was just responding to it.

Morpheus: Semantics. Seriously, what the hell did you guys do now?

Uncle Joe: Pause.

Hustle: Yeah, Morph, relax. The noise came from somewhere down the hall. We were trying to figure out what it was when you busted back in here like Dick Cheney throwing out baseless accusations.

Uncle Joe: Ha! That nigga shot a bitch in the face. In the FACE!

A second loud thudding sound comes from down the hall, silencing all three men. They look back and forth between each other and Morpheus walks over to his wall and pulls down his Excalibur replica. He puts his finger up to his mouth to indicate silence, and heads for the door, waving for Joe and Hustle to follow him. Morpheus whispers back to them as he steps into the hall.

Morpheus: It sounds like it’s coming from the living room. Stay close.

The three men head down the hall toward the living room, where a third loud thud is heard, followed by a muffled grunt. The lights are out in the living room, so only the muted glow of the street lights coming through the window provide any illumination. As the men advance, a shadow moves across the floor. Morpheus raises the sword in front of him and continues his approach as Joe and Hustle stay back. Suddenly, the lights come on in the room and Morpheus charges forward with a battle cry.

Morpheus: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!!!!

Hustle: AAAAHHHH!!!

Uncle Joe: Fuck, Huss. These were new shoes.

Voice: What the fuck? WHOA!

A man turns around and ducks just as Morpheus swings the sword in a Highlander-esque beheading stroke. As Morpheus shifts his stance to go for a second swing, the man turns to face him and throws up his hands in surrender.

Man: Yo, Duncan! Put the brakes on for just a minute here!

Morpheus: Steve?

YourAyatollah: Ya think? Damn dude, you almost took my head clean off. Straight up MacLeod shit right there.

Morpheus: Yeah, it was a pretty sweet slice.

YourAyatollah: Sweet, my ass. That swing was uglier than a Filipino prom dress.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle is Filipino.

Hustle: Damn.

YourAyatollah: Sorry, man. My bad.

Hustle: It’s cool.

Voice: Is it safe to come out now?

Another Voice: I think this pizza behind the couch is alive.

Morpheus: What the…

Another thudding sound is heard as the couch lurches forward. Current Big Thing and SkitZ stand up and brush themselves off.

SkitZ: The things I’ve seen…

Current Big Thing: You seriously need to look into buying a vacuum dude.

Morpheus: Last I checked, it was you who was breaking and entering, so quit your bitching. What the hell are all of you doing here any…

Voice: Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Coming through!

Frantic footsteps are heard, and suddenly Mazza comes flying in through the window and crashes to the floor with a thud.

Mazza: That was less than ideal.

Morpheus: Where the hell did you come from? What’s going on here?

SkitZ: You mean, you don’t know, homie?

Current Big Thing: Dude, it’s all over the internet.

YourAyatollah: And the news now too, I would guess. Shit’s going down.

Mazza: That would be an understatement.

Morpheus: Ok, so is one of you going to actually tell me what the hell you’re talking about, or are you just going to continue talking about what your talking about without actually saying what it is you’re talking about?

Hustle: Best sentence ever.

Steve goes over and turns on the television. The seven men in Morpheus’ living room gather in a group and watch the news broadcast as it unfolds.

Live Reporter: …and police responded to a 911 call from an old man with an affinity for fart jokes who claims that former WWF Intercontinental Champion Val Venis immorally had his way with said elderly gentleman’s girlfriend and then “expletive-deleted”-smacked him in the face, leaving a mushroom tattoo on his forehead. When approached for comment, the old man only responded, “She’ll live to regret it. I turn into Brad Pitt, you know!” This is Pnk reporting to you live from Lords Avenue as the only token female available to prevent a total sausage fest. Back to you in the studio, Jovan.

News Anchor: Thanks Pnk. Now, we have to head to a commercial break. When we come back, we will report live from horrifying events that are currently taking place in several cities around the world. Stay tuned right here for more PNN News.

Commercial: Do you hate reading? Sure, we all do…

Morpheus: So you fucks all broke into my house because Val Venis walloped Benji with an epic cocksmack?

YourAyatollah: Nah, dude. Although disturbing, that’s not even close to the heavy shit that’s going down right now.

Current Big Thing: We’re talkin’ Shelton’s Mama heavy.

Uncle Joe: Man, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s heavy.

Hustle: Damn.

Current Big Thing: My bad, man. Sorry.

Hustle: Fuck, Joe. Like you and Morph are Cruisers? Either one of you could fill in for those Phi Delta Slam beasts.

Uncle Joe: Not me, son. I’m too brown. Morph over here is the giant honky.

Morpheus: Is that word even used anymore?

Uncle Joe: What word?

Morpheus: Honky.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s Caucasian.

Hustle: Damn.

Morpheus: Are you fucking kidding me?

Mazza: Not a bad decor in here, Morpheus. But to be honest, for someone in the position of Dream Master, I expected something just a bit more intriguing. I think it works, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just not for me.
Mazza Rating: B-

Morpheus: I want to stab you in the jaw right now.

SkitZ: Ok, here comes the broadcast.

JovanBKT: Welcome back to the Puro News Network, where we present the facts, and you form the opinions. We are going to take you live to our field reporter RandomGuy #5 who is in the thick of what can only be described as a doomsday scenario. Random…

Random: Thanks Jovan. I am reporting live from downtown Springwood where the streets have been overrun with what appear to be zombies.

Jovan: Zombies?

Random: Zombies.

Jovan: Zombies.

Random: Yes, Zombies. These creatures display all the classic signs of Zombiedom. Jerky movement, abscessed sores, tattered clothing, the stench of decomposition, and an insatiable craving for living victims.

Jovan: My God…

Random: Who may or may not exist. Anyway, these creatures are multiplying at a frightening pace as their infection quickly spreads to infect new victims. They continue their relentless advance upon every major population center in North America, and we have seen some signs of similar developments taking place in Europe and Asia. By all appearances, it would seem that we are in the midst of a true Zombie Apocalypse.

Uncle Joe: Oh yeah, I knew about that.

Hustle: What?

Uncle Joe: Yeah, I saw some shit on the internet about that.

Morpheus: And you didn’t think it was important enough to share that information with us?

Uncle Joe: Nope. Shit was just in a pop up window when I was searching for midget fisting porn. I hate pop ups.

Hustle: I need new friends.

Random: These zombies aren’t exactly like the zombies that we’ve all seen in movies and television over the years. While many of the characteristics are similar, there are distinct differences that set them apart. For example, these zombies retain some limited capabilities of speech.

Jovan: So these zombies have retained their intelligence?

Random: I wouldn’t go so far as to say that they have any intelligence. Thus far it seems they are only capable of mindlessly repeating things that have been told to them by another source.

Morpheus: Wait a minute…

Random: Let’s see if we can get a close up camera shot of some of them. Yes, there is a group of them heading down the street toward us now. Xan, see if you can zoom in and get a good shot of them.

The camera pans around past Random and focuses in on a group of five humanoid forms shambling toward them. The camera zooms in, and as the creatures step under a street light, their features become clear.

Random: As you can see, these creatures have sores all over their faces and are wearing tattered clothes; two common characteristics of Zombies. But as you can hear from the low murmur that is approaching with them, they are actually articulating full speech as opposed to simple moans and groans.

YourAyatollah: Son of a bitch.

Current Big Thing: Guys, those aren’t sores. That’s acne.

Mazza: And those clothes aren’t tattered. They’re designed that way.

SkitZ: They kind of look like…

Hustle: Holy shit. They’re Hardy Fans.

Uncle Joe: Morph, WHAT DID YOU DO?!?

Morpheus: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Random: These horrific creatures are capable of great speed when provoked and are ruthless hunters. I am afraid that as of yet, no cure for this spreading epidemic has been found. Scientists are now reporting that this disease can be spread via the internet through such massive sites as YouTube and Twitter. Authorities recommend staying indoors and avoiding all internet contact.

A scream is heard as the camera falls to the ground and lands on its side. A grizzly scene plays out where the approaching horde of Hardy Zombies pounce on Random and take him down. He let’s out a cry that is muffled by the voices of the Zombies.

Zombies: …never used properly… …deserved better treatment… …should have had a title run…

The camera stays on the scene as the Hardy Zombies continue their relentless assault. After a few moments, they begin to slow and turn to walk away. The camera shows Random stirring on the ground. As he rises, he turns toward the camera, and we see he is wearing a Team Extreme T-shirt over a long sleeve mesh shirt. His once clear complexion has been marred by extensive acne.

Random: 2010… is the year… of Matt Hardy…

Morpheus: Turn this shit off. I can’t watch it anymore.

Current Big Thing goes over and turns off the television as all seven men stand in silence for a moment.

Mazza: Not the most original or compelling zombie attack I’ve ever seen, but it served its purpose well enough to advance the story.
Mazza Rating: B

Morpheus: My God… This is all my fault. What have I done?

YourAyatollah: It’s not your fault, broseph. You just put into words what a lot of other people were thinking but didn’t have the balls, eloquence, or sheer writing talent to say.

SkitZ: He’s right.

Hustle: Truth, sir.

Current Big Thing: You are the greatest of all time.

All of the men nod and mumble in agreement, relieving Morpheus of the guilt he was feeling and stroking his fragile ego in the process.

Morpheus: Thanks guys. Your flattery has steeled my resolve.

Current Big Thing: No, thank YOU Morph. Gracing us with your words has been one…

Uncle Joe: Yo, Pillman. Fine line between flattery and a blow job. You’re walking it.

Morpheus: Thanks, Ceebs. We’ll talk more later, Tiger.

Hustle: So what the hell are we going to do?

A moment of silence goes by as the seven men look back and forth between each other.

Mazza: Now I know how it must feel at a Republican brainstorming session.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s Republican.

Hustle: Damn.

Mazza: My bad. Sorry man.

Hustle: Socialist.

Steve’s phone starts to ring, playing the opening guitar riff of “For Whom The Bell Tolls” by Metallica.

YourAyatollah: Get it? Because it’s my name.

Uncle Joe: Blatant Exposition, FTW.

YourAyatollah: Hello? Yeah… Yeah… Yeah? Sweet. Ok, see you then. Later.

Morpheus: Who was that?

YourAyatollah: It was Shane.

Current Big Thing: I knew we were missing someone. Where is he?

YourAyatollah: He’s on his way here. He got a hold of that van we were looking for.

Mazza: Nice, now we won’t have to walk anymore.

Uncle Joe: Walking blows. Fucks up all my new shoes. Although, since these have already been pissed on, whatever.

Morpheus: Ok, so we have a vehicle then, but what are we going to do once we get it?

SkitZ: I was thinking we could retreat into the woods and start a Utopian society where we can live free to revel in our own beliefs. Clothing optional.

Hustle: I vote not that.

Morpheus: That sounds gayer than a NAMBLA meeting in Athens, Greece.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s Greek.

Hustle: Damn.

Morpheus: I just… What can… Really?

Mazza: We need a better suggestion than a gay hippie retreat if we’re going to make it through this thing.

Hustle: Well, in the movies, don’t people usually go to the mall or something? Reinforcements and supplies and stuff?

Uncle Joe: Yeah, and shoes. That haven’t been pissed on.

Hustle: Let it go.

Morpheus: Ordinarily I’d say yes, but it’s the teen fanboy/girl demographic that has begun this apocalypse. I have a feeling the mall would NOT be a good place to start.

Everyone stops to listen as a loud noise starts to come from outside the house. A car horn gets louder and louder, and lights begin to shine through the front window. As the noise continues to get louder, and the lights brighter, everyone runs back and ducks for cover across the room as a van comes crashing though the front wall of the house next to the front door.

Current Big Thing: I think I broke my ass.

Shane: I have always wanted to do that! That was awesome!

Morpheus: Dude, this is a rental!

Shane: Sorry about that, M. I was aiming for one of those zombies that was in the yard. When I saw it, I decided to ram it mercilessly like a Vietnamese hooker.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s Vietnamese.

Hustle: Damn.

Shane: My bad, Huss. No harm meant.

Just then, with a growl of effort, a Hardy Zombie leaps through the hole in the wall left by Shane’s van and attacks SkitZ before he has a chance to react. The Zombie knocks SkitZ to the ground and begins mauling him as the others stand dumbfounded.

Zombie: …deserves a push… …should be a main eventer…

SkitZ: AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! GET IT O… OH GOD!!! YES!!!

Uncle Joe: Now that’s just fucked up right there.

A rending sound is heard and SkitZ goes limp. The Zombie slowly gets up off of him and turns to face the group standing in the room. Blood is dripping from its mouth and hands, as it holds up a bloodstained V1 T-shirt and gurgles what one could only assume is a laugh.

Zombie: …are you an MFer?…

Mazza: Now that kill had a bit more dramatic flair to it. Not elegant or pretty, but definitely served to put the rest of us on notice.
Mazza Rating: A-

Zombie: …Matt Hardy… …better than… …glass ceiling… …Triple H…

Morpheus: He didn’t say that.

YourAyatollah: Oh shit…

Morpheus: TELL ME… He did not just SAY THAT!

Shane: Get down!

Morpheus: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE GAME!!!

Morpheus runs forward and grabs the Zombies arm, spinning it around to face him. Morpheus backhands the Zombie across the face, and it reels backward to slam full force into the grill of the van.

Current Big Thing: Holy shit! The Zombie sold the slap!

With two swift strokes of Excalibur, Morpheus quickly dispatches the Zombie’s arms; first the right, then the left. The zombie struggles back to his feet and lunges at Morpheus, seeking to bite him. Morpheus sidesteps the hurtling Zombie and with a third stroke of the sword deftly decapitates it.

Morpheus: It’s all about the pain, and who’s gonna make it…

The Zombie drops to the ground, dead. Morpheus stands over it and then bends down to wipe the blood off of his sword on the back of the fallen fiend.

Mazza: Yes! Yes! Yes! Now this is the type of kill that I was hoping for when this Hardy Zombie Apocalypse was first announced. Excellent form, compelling action, and a certain fluid grace that added to the overall experience.
Mazza Rating: A+

Uncle Joe: That was some fuckin’ Zorro shit right there.

Morpheus: New plan. It seems that in true Zombie fashion, separating these fuckers’ heads from their shoulders is enough to kill them.

Mazza: We need to get our hands on some more swords then.

Hustle: You sure that’s such a good idea?

Mazza: What do you mean?

Hustle: Well, Morph here used to be one of those Live Action Role Playing geeks and so he actually has some experience in using a sword. What about the rest of us?

Shane: I’ve seen every Star Wars movie like 15 times.

Uncle Joe: Yeah, we’re pretty fucked.

Hustle: So a bunch of inexperienced mother fuckers swinging sharp blades around in a confined space sounds like a bad plan to me.

Current Big Thing: I think the swords are a bad idea for another reason, too. If these things come at us in force, it’s a little dangerous to let them get that close to us, isn’t it? It would be better if we could use some ranged attacks instead of letting them get into melee range.

Uncle Joe: More D&D geeks. Ballsack.

Morpheus: Ceebs is right. We need to be able to take these bitches out at a distance if we’re going to make it through this thing alive. We need to get our hands on some serious firepower, and fast.

Shane: Well, I’ve got the wheels. Where are we headed?

Mazza: I have no idea. Is there a gun store nearby?

Hustle: I got my 9 at my crib. Represent.

Uncle Joe: No.

YourAyatollah: Alright, let’s head to my place then.

Morpheus: What? Why?

YourAyatollah: Dude, I’m from Texas. It’s pretty much required by law to have a shit ton of firepower.

Current Big Thing: I’m not sure whether that’s incredibly awesome or ridiculously frightening.

Mazza: I’m voting the latter, but for now at least it works in our favor.

Shane: Leave it to you Democrat types to hate on guns even in a situation like this.

Uncle Joe: Dude, that’s fucked up. Hustle’s a Democrat.

Hustle: Damn.

Shane: My bad. Sorry man.

Hustle: Tea Bagger.

YourAyatollah: Alright, it’s settled then. My place it is. Let’s do work, fellas.

Uncle Joe: REGULATORS! Mount up.

Hustle: Shit, I’ve always wanted to say that.

As the men start walking toward the van, SkitZ slowly makes his way to his feet. A low growl escapes his throat as he steps behind Morpheus.

SkitZ: …Vee… One… Ahhh…

Without looking, Morpheus spins around and decapitates SkitZ with a single swing. He follows through with the motion until he is facing the other men again.

Morpheus: Damn, that felt good. On so many levels.

SkitZ’s body finally topples and falls to the ground.

Morpheus: Steve’s place. Let’s do this. It’s time for me to get my White Ving Rhames on.

TO BE CONTINUED

4 Responses to “Enter The Dream Realm Vol. 69 – The Hardy Zombie Apocalypse: The Movie (Act I)”

  1. Rowena says:

    Hello! Is it okay that I go a bit off topic? I’m trying to read your domain on my iPad but it doesn’t display properly, do you have any suggestions? Thanks for the help I hope! Rowena

  2. [...] Enter The Dream Realm Vol. 69 – The Hardy Zombie Apocalypse: The Movie (Act I) [...]

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