Zombie Thursday: Metal Gear Solid

It’s Zombie Thursday for the second time ever, so I get to release zombies into a game world again. It was requested last week by a few people in the comments, so this week Snake is going to get all horded up and what not. So strap yourself in (yes, to your chair, that’s how thrilling this will be) and prepare yourself for an undead helping of Metal Gear Solid.

What the hell is that thing, a hairless monkey?‘ asked Snake, pointing his socom at the weird, hairless monkey thing.

‘Don’t say that, you’ll hurt his feelings,’ said the smooth black guy holding the tissue.

‘Oh god, what the bloody hell is it? My ex-wife?’

Hey, that’s uncalled for, nothing should be compared to her.’ The tissue man gave the ex-wife-a-like a hug, a can of something that Snake couldn’t make out and then stood up.

‘So you’re Drebin.’

‘I am Dre- wait, how did you know who I was?’ asked Drebin, confounded.

‘I’ve played through the game before.’

‘Game?’

‘Never mind. Can I have a gun?’

‘Sure!’ Drebin handed Snake an M4A1, which Snake immediately pointed at Drebin’s left nostril.

‘Now tell me why I shouldn’t pick your nose with a Nathan of bullets and take all your guns in my pockets of storage +3.’

‘A what of bullets?’

‘A hail of bullets.’

‘Oh – because I can somehow teleport guns to you on the battlefield?’ Drebin was now edging towards his APC, which was full of guns.

‘Sold!’ Said Snake, excited about the weird weapon delivery system. ‘Dude, what’s chewing on your leg?’ Drebin looked down to see a zombie chewing on his left calf. He yelped and swooshed his handkerchief, out of which a grenade fell, which he pulled the pin out of and dropped onto the zombie. He then realised what he had done. ‘Oh, tits and brandy!’ he cursed, before exploding.

Snake stood there looking between where Drebin’s head had been and where it was now, 4 metres to the left. ‘Drebin – you okay?’ The ex-wife-hairless-monkey thing looked at Drebin’s head, tears filling its eyes, though it still took a sip of whatever it was drinking. Its lip started to quiver.

Then there was banging on the door behind Snake, accompanied by growling and bloody-curdling shrieks. Snake spun around in disbelief. ‘This didn’t happen last time – damn that director 2.0!’

Holes appeared in the door. Snake saw the debatably dead faces, eyes glowing and their covered in blood, and screamed like a little girl. As he ran back towards the APC, the door buckled and a horde of fasties flooded towards Snake, swallowing his ex-wife along the way. Snake used the APC as a bottle neck and slaughtered the horde as it came into view with an auto shotgun that was conveniently placed along side an assault rifle, a hunting rifle and a self-replenishing pile of ammunition.

The horde had gone, but there was now a loud growling sound. Snake was frozen at the back. He didn’t like it when things growled. It reminded him of a traumatic childhood memory, in which something growled at him. Terrifying. Snake edged ever-slowly forward, holding onto the auto shotgun like it was going to save it’s life. Which it was.

He peeked around the corner only to be immediately pounced at by the zombie version of the hairless monkey thing, which was now inexplicably wearing a hoodie and jeans. Snake didn’t even notice, as he chose this moment to sneeze violently, jerking in a way that, through some suspension of disbelief-testing coincidence, hit the hunter in the face before it landed on him. Snake opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, and noticed the hunter, looking a bit dizzy. He screamed like a little girl and emptied 10 shells into it’s chest. It went down on the first shot, but Snake didn’t realise because he was too busy screaming and being uncharacteristically girly.

Coming to his manly senses, Snake stopped screaming, grunted and, feeling like he had to say something badass, said ‘the hunter becomes the hunted‘. There wasn’t a collective groan, because nobody was there, but there should have been. Snake moved to climb into the driver’s seat of the APC to drive away when a big fat guy appeared from around the front of the vehicle and big fat threw up on him.

‘Euk – what the fuck? You disgusting bastard, what the hell are you doing!?’ Snake wiped his eyes and looked at the big fat guy. It turned out that he was a big fat zombie. Of course he was. Snake shot him and he pissing exploded, knocking Snake backwards onto his quickly-aging arse. ‘What the hell!?’

Then zombies appeared out of nowhere and swarmed around him. Snake did his best to fight them off, but there are were too many and his eyesight isn’t what it used to be. High pitched music was playing somewhere, which Snake would’ve thought was strange if he wasn’t being attacked by a horde of the peckish dead. Snake did take out a sizeable chunk of the zombies, but eventually they overpowered him, which lead to him being on his back (in a bad way), inexplicably shooting them with a pistol that he wasn’t actually carrying beforehand. The zombies continued to tear him apart.

Then deeper, more threateningly dramatic music started playing, obviously announcing the arrival of something, but Snake didn’t get to see what it was. Snake was deceased before he could see what the music announced, though.

The zombies stopped moving immediately, and the only sound, other than their laboured, phone-pervert breathing, was Otacon screaming ‘Snake? Snake!? Snaaaaakkkeeeeee!?’ around the taco he was eating.

Want to see zombies invade your favourite game? Leave suggestions in the comments below and you may well get to see it happening. Well, you may get to read about it happening, anyway.

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