Category Archives: Zombie Bunnies

Trifecta XXIX / ZB 4.5 – The Harvest (Prequel)

This Week’s word is:
DECAY (intransitive verb)
3: to fall into ruin

I’m going to take a step BACK this week in the Zombie Bunny story/time line. This week’s ZB fix takes place between Episodes 4 and 5 (I have links below that line ’em all up for you).

Plus I am off to the other side of the country (San Diego) tomorrow for a week, so take a moment if you please and revisit the story from the beginning. [Note that I have tried my best to keep consistent ;)] I might not be writing, but I will try and check up on you all from my phone.


The scents and sights of decay intensified as they reached the farm. At first it was the expected rancid dumpster stench that defined rotting vegetables, but a thick almost sweetly metallic fragrance, less familiar to the layman, lingered at the olfactory scale.

Agents Un, Dewey and Trippi were familiar with it. Sometimes they caused it.

The agents fanned out across the cabbage field, in sight of one another; Un took center, Trippi the right to the silo and Dewey to the left to the house and barn. A fourth, agent Pfeiffer, stayed behind in his hazmat suit, taking samples of the crops, and the pellets that illuminated even on this sunny day. Cicadas rustled in the trees and bushes dotted along the property.

“Status?” the voice in their earbuds was not any of theirs; The Director was at HQ, monitoring the situation.

“No sign of anything living…or not,” Un whispered. “Crops rotting faster in proximity to pellets,” Pfeiffer added. Un glanced towards Trippi, who was moving too quickly to the silo. “Trip, stay sharp.” He wasn’t nervous, but he started when a leafy vegetable flickered in the breeze just outside his vision.

Un’s checkpoint was a scarecrow dangling crookedly from its perch. He reached it, humorlessly noted the Carrot Top likeness, and scanned the farmland.

Dewey was at his point, but was idling along a dirt path between the house and barn. “I got bunny bodies…” he reported.

“Dewey, house is priority, get there now.” Even within his whisper, the authority was clear. I’m not going to let the rules slide on a dipshit recon mission, he thought bitterly, knowing the Director was hearing these lapses and would give him hell, even if they foun…

Un interrupted himself as he realized the cicada’s chirping had ceased, and a low continuous squeaking had taken its place. He scanned each direction, but couldn’t pin a location in the open field.

“We’ve got company,” he muttered darkly, not noticing the scarecrow’s red hair shuffling.


The Zombie Bunny Entries:

    1. Fetch the Holy Hand Grenade!
    2. Part II
    3. Part III/Prequel
    4. Part IV
    5. Part V
    6. Part VI – Welcome to the Fold
    7. Part VII: Peeple are Peeple
    8. Part VIII: Off-Balance
    9. Part IX: On the Edge
    10. Part X: Get to the Choppa!
    11. Part XI: Heroes and Villains
    12. Part XII – Setting the Stage

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Trifecta XXVIII / Zombie Bunnies 12 – Setting the Stage

This Week’s word is:

WILD (adj)

3: a (1): not subject to restraint or regulation : uncontrolled; also : unruly
(2) : emotionally overcome ; also : passionately eager or enthusiastic

We return to the action of Zombie Bunnies…

The limo ride through battle- worn streets was tense enough to make Emma’s jaw ache, as she sat alongside Richard and two generic ‘suits’. They were leading an entourage that included several trucks and a full length bus, each pristine and boldly emblazoned with the EM logo.

“This zone was affected worse than Delta,” Connar explained. “Though the epidemic didn’t originate from this facility,” he stole a quick glance at Emma, who met it with flaming meteoric daggers, “It was the first field research laboratory the government set up.”

The government presence was notable, as the bunny and civilian corpses were suddenly replaced by soldiers’ bodies and equipment. As they drove past a wrecked checkpoint, Emma looked through the tinted window and noticed McMuscles standing nearby watching them, a high power rifle slung over his shoulder, and shells (walnut and bullet) strewn around his feet.

* * *

A thick stack of printouts was waiting on a desk in the office Emma was assigned to. After a short restless nap on a military cot, she had begun to leaf through them, when there was a bustle at the door and two men barged in; a young man in khakis, EM-logoed polo shirt and headset, and another whom she recognized and loathed immediately; TV host Donald Carcharias. “Why is her room larger than mine?!” Donald seethed to the other, without acknowledging Emma. “This is unbelievable, I… well hello dear!”, he switched his tone and smiled as Emma approached. She took his outstretched hand, meeting the wild demeanor emphasized by his veneered grin and saran wrapped forehead, with some leftover daggers, wishing she had those bullets instead.

“So sorry we missed each other earlier,” he apologized, “but…”

“Mr. Carcharias, what the…”

“Emma, please! Call me Don!”

Fuck. You. “Mr. Carcharias, why are you here?”

“Ehhehe… feisty, huh? Well, I guess Dick knew our personalities would clash perfectly.” He glanced at the printouts. ”I see you have the script- keep reading. They want us ‘on set’ in twenty.”

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Trifecta XXVI / ZB XI – Heroes and Villians

This Week’s word is:

enig·ma noun \i-ˈnig-mə, e-\

1: an obscure speech or writing
2: something hard to understand or explain
3: an inscrutable or mysterious person

Please remember:
Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
The word itself needs to be included in your response.
You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
Your post must include a link back to Trifecta.
Please submit your post’s permalink, not the main page of your blog. For example: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2012/03/trifextra-week-eight.html not http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com.

You know what time it is?
Come along and sing the song!
Z-O-M-B-I-E B-U-N-N-Y!

Well our heroic siblings have been rescued, so we can all take a deep breath and relax…

Emma and Allen’s uneventful ride in the helicopter should have been relaxing, but with McMuscles sitting across from them, opening walnuts in his fists (Somehow, he managed to keep the brain shaped nuts intact) they shared an uneasy feeling.

“Where are we going?” Emma asked, after deciding Allen wasn’t going to.

He paused. “Empire Media Headquarters, ETA 10 minutes.”

Allen then spoke up impatiently. “What, are you collecting survivor stories?”

“We brought your father in this morning. Mr. Connar wants you all together.” Crack. End of conversation.

Despite Richard Connar’s public presence (and self- financed documentary), Emma and the general public still saw him as an enigma. Having watched ENN, she doubted his intentions were for some tearjerker reunion footage. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

* * *

They landed on the rooftop helipad as scheduled and were unceremoniously led to a penthouse conference room. Emma noticed the wall sized screen as they entered, broadcasting the neighborhood where they had been only a short time before. Bodies, both human and bunny, were scattered around the area, with gratuitous closeups of the grenade impact zone.

“Yes that’s the aftermath,” Connar announced with no introduction. “We shot your escape, and got another chopper out there making a little extra news for us.”

“Where’s our father?” Allen asked looking around suspiciously. Connar gestured impatiently.

“He’s doing his part, reassuring the public that KillEmAll will end this crisis.” He reached in his pocket and presented a thumb drive. “This information we rescued with him contains data on the project you and your colleagues worked on, Ms Appleby- the one that created the outbreak. Your father’s appeal to save you was more than paternal, thankfully.”

“We’re securing a government-grade laboratory for your use, and will monitor and even broadcast, your progress. Refusal is not an option. Oh and Allen,” he turned and nodded to McMuscles, who unholstered a very large handgun, “Push aside those thoughts of attacking me. We’re only looking for one type of hero right now.”

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Trifecta XXV / ZB X: Get to the Choppa!

The Word of the Week is:
thun•der noun \ˈthən-dər\

1: the sound that follows a flash of lightning and is caused by sudden expansion of the air in the path of the electrical discharge
2: a loud utterance or threat
3: bang, rumble [the thunder of big guns]

Ok Emma and Allen are STILL about to be fed to the bunnies while the cameras are rolling…but wait! A wild helicopter appears!


PJ Appleby jumped from his seat towards the screen. “Emma! Allen!”

Connar turned to him, a curious expression on his face. “You know those two?”

“I know my kids when I see them.” PJ replied evenly.

Connar’s demeanor changed; Appleby doubted his smiles were ever a source of comfort. “Really? Well, that changes things.” He clicked his remote again and sound burst from the speakers on the wall. The thumping of the rotors was in the background. “You hearing us, Murray?”

“Loud and clear,” Murray Bedward, EM Carchase Correspondent, replied.

“Good. Scratch that last plan. Screw the cultists, get me those prisoners.”

* * *

“Move!” Allen turned as he shouted the order, grabbing the cultist behind him who was distracted by the looming helicopter. They wrestled briefly for his gun, but the other man shoved and sent him sprawling over an air duct. He moved to Allen, bunny ears askew, and leveled his weapon.

*Blam!* The man’s head, and bunny ears exploded. Sprayed with bone and blood, Allen looked at the ‘copter and saw a camera, no wait, a side-mounted cannon spit another salvo at the other cultist, who was ignoring Emma and preparing to fire on them. His fate was even messier.

A ladder rope was lowered to them and they climbed on, Emma first. As Allen neared the top, the copter swayed, and a man in a cheap suit and deafening tie leaned over to block him. What the hell?, Allen thought.

“Too much weight,” the man proclaimed, and moved to hit Allen. Suddenly, he pitched forward, then tumbled out, taking a screaming nosedive into the pit of bunnies. Allen hauled himself into the passenger hold.

“That better?” He heard the voice and noticed a man sitting next to Emma, seemingly made of muscles, a green mohawk, and a grimace. He nonchalantly pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and tossed it down to the bunnies. “Try hiding that egg,” he catch- phrased as the thunder of the grenade explosion rumbled below them.

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Trifextra XIV / ZomBunnies IX: On the Edge

This weekend, we return to the 33-word prompt, but this time, a 33-word prompt with a twist. Your task, should you choose to accept, is to take a scene that involves (or affects) at least three people. You should then write this scene from the point of view of three of the characters, using 33 words for each character.

We left Emma and Allen in the clutches of the Hare Band, who plan to offer them as a sacrifice to the Zombie Bunnies. Each characters’s location/situation in the scene is italicized, POV is bolded.

Emma, looking down from a makeshift plank on the roof of the pet shop, at the horde of bunnies waiting underneath, trying to think up a plan –

Where’s an Artoo unit when you need one? Hell, I’d settle for a chick in a metal bikini. Great, my last thoughts are a nerdy fanboy’s. What the… a helicopter?! Allen, quick!

Richard Connar, watching the scene from the EM CopterCam video feed and talking to the reporting staff on board–

“We’re going live now, keep the camera on the victims… closer! I want to see and SMELL some fear. Right, interview the cultists afterwards, we can work a weekly series out of this.”

Allen, standing behind Emma, with zombie bunnies underneath, thinking typical guy thoughts –

We should have stayed with the other cult. I could have found out how furless that babe was. That Peep is repeating on me; nice last meal. What, Emma… ok they’re distracted! Move!

 

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Trifecta XXIV / Zombie Bunnies VIII: Off-Balance

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

In the interests of a cliffhanger for our two heros, let’s pick up the story from some other characters, and see how THEY are faring…


“I expect that our conversations will not be held in any form of confidence,” PJ Appleby chided Rich Connar, Overlord of Empire Media. They were in Connar’s executive meeting room on the penthouse of Tower Watch, EM’s flagship building. Appleby had just arrived by helicopter, spirited there by Connar’s security team from his own headquarters, and just in time; the bunnies were everywhere. Only he had made it.

“I’m glad we have that understanding,” was the others’ reply. “But it’s not what we know, but what we tell that matters.” His attention was focused on the wall covered in television panels showing simultaneous news reports; from pandemonium on unknown streets, to desolate farmlands, the horde was spreading across the screens. He was examining one video feed, a close up of a bunny’s tackily furred torso. It paid no mind to the camera as it fed on what remained of EM reporter DeeDee Lottagams.

“Such a waste. She was our finest looking reporter,” Connar explained. “DoubleDee could wear a bikini during Armageddon and have you convinced it was a Spring Break kegger.” He turned to Appleby. ”Another team is headed to a new hot spot. We’ll follow up with that. In the meantime, we’re setting up your interview with Don.”

Appleby winced. Donald Carcharias was the anchor of ‘Rake & Shovel’, the nation’s highest rated interview program. Q&A’s with Don reduced more than one world leader to tears, and just last month, a well- known actress had attempted suicide on- air during a frenzied grilling.

Connar noticed Appleby’s expression and gave a cruel smile. “Oh don’t worry. You have information we need to mine and refine for the public good. Now, let’s…” He paused and tapped his earbud headset. After listening for a moment, he pulled a small remote device from his pocket; the screens combined to one large live video. Appleby’s heart dropped as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Now this,” Connar shouted with mad glee, “this, is a story!”

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Trifecta XXIV – Zombie Bunnies VII – Peeple are Peeple

This week’s word is ‘confidence’:
3 a: a relation of trust or intimacy <took his friend into his confidence>

b : reliance on another’s discretion <their story was told in strictest confidence>

c : support especially in a legislative body <vote of confidence>

On the heels of a second place finish (which made my week), and some of the awesomest feedback ever, I too wondered, what happens next? I’ve actually started an outline and will probably create some page that links them chronologically.

For now, let’s continue where we left off…


“What occurred here must remain in the strictest of confidence. We put days of effort into building this new order, and will not have it bastardized by others. Particularly ‘The Hare Band’, as they are known,” he spoke with obvious disgust. A rival faction of crazies, Emma thought. Some things never change.

“Well we’re just passing through, but your secret is safe with us,” she promised. Like anyone would believe it. Echo sighed and shook his head. “Know that we can offer no protection when you encounter them.” As they re- slung their backpacks, they were each offered a yellow marshmallow Peep attached to a simple nylon lanyard from the un-furred young woman. “For luck,” she stated, holding them out proudly. “I made them myself.”

** *

“You’re actually wearing it,” Emma badgered Allen, as they pulled out of the garage.

“I like ‘em stale,” was his reply.

** *

WHEN you encounter them is what he said, Emma reflected, not IF. Should have known. She didn’t share that epiphany with Allen, who was cursing at having missed the now obvious nail strip that blew out the van’s tires.

Several figures emerged from an abandoned pet shop on their right. They were armed with automatic rifles, a juxtaposition to the, yes, Emma realized, rabbit ear headbands.

“We don’t want any trouble, we were leaving town,” she declared.

“Leaving?” One man said nasally, a rubber pink nose twitching on his face. “Then why’re you wearing the talisman of the Bunnymen!?” he shouted accusingly. She turned and saw Allen attempting to eat the evidence, but it was too late.

They were herded out of the van, their backpacks confiscated, to their captors’ burrow. As they walked, Emma tried to think of some escape plan.

“Listen, how about we join…”

“No, you’ve likely eaten of the Hallowed Bunny,” Pink Nose stated, “and therefore are impure. However, you are still useful to us in ensuring our survival. Rather than waste our ammunition against unending hordes, we placate them with… a sacrifice!”

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Zombie Bunnies Vl – Welcome to the Fold

This week’s word is observe – to celebrate or solemnize (as a ceremony or festival) in a customary or accepted way.

We’ll continue the Zombie Bunnies adventure, as Emma and Allen head for the city.


An hour later they arrived at Delta Springs. By that point, the truck was running on fumes, they were shorter on patience and hopes of safety were even lower still as they entered the city. Cruising down an empty, wide boulevard at a steady twenty, a flickering light caught their attention. “Dammit, who’s trying to blind me?” Allen complained. Emma leaned forward and realized it was a mirror reflecting the sunlight; a crude but noiseless beacon. Someone had spotted them, and was at least willing to take them in.

“Go straight, three more blocks,” Emma directed, then opened her pack. She checked the clip on the handgun and put it on the armrest for him, drawing the machete for herself.

As they approached, an oversized metal gate at the bottom of a four story brick building was pulled up, two men wearing long heavy coats emerging. They were armed with flamethrowers, and leveled their weapons at an angle away from their truck; looking at the rear view mirror, Emma noticed the bushy tailed swarm hopping only twenty feet behind them, suddenly awash in fire. They pulled inside the garage and the door slammed shut.

* * *

“We’re not savages you know.”

This, from a guy wearing zombie rabbit pelts, Emma thought, you doth protest too much. Just the danger of nicking your finger while skinning them; if that meant status, she’d prefer anonymity in this group.

“Call me Echo,” he continued, his tone heavy with self- importance. Emma had a feeling she knew what the survivors were called*. Emma and Allen introduced themselves, but were interrupted from asking any questions.

“Before proceeding further, let us observe a moment of reflection and celebration for our newest members.” A non- furred young woman approached and handed him a colorful rectangular cardboard box. Opening the top, he pulled out a chocolate Easter Bunny. As he broke it into pieces for the others lining up before him, Emma absently fingered the two bullets in her pocket.


*Bonus points for anyone who guesses the name of the group 😉

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Trifecta Challenge – Zombie Bunnies V

This week’s topic word is –
scan•dal noun \ˈskan-dəl\

3 a: a circumstance or action that offends propriety or established moral conceptions or disgraces those associated with it
b : a person whose conduct offends propriety or morality

Use the word. Add 32-332 other words around it and you got yerself an entry.

Yes, MORE. Because you want more. Because I want more. Like bloodthirsty little bunnies.


Oh now, this would be news, she thought grimly while wiping the blood and gore from the machete. ‘Former Veterinary Assistant Goes From Saving to Slaughtering Animals.’ Of course the press would ignore the fact that those little guys had turned into bloodlusting vermin; why pass up the chance to create a scandal? She pushed it out of her mind, just as she had learned to forget the good things she associated with the little furballs; that carrot munching wiseass from the cartoons, little chocolate crème filled eggs during Easter, Watership Down– her favorite book as a child (and adult), and the ‘once funny, but now too true’ killer rabbit scene that brought together millions of geeks under the kinship of random quotes (Ni!)

She really could have used Tim the Enchanter’s help right about now.

The van jolted, knocking her back into reality, sad as it was. Could have been a pothole they hit, but more likely it was roadkill.

“That’s nine, Em!” Allen yelled to her from the driver’s seat confirming the thought. “And that’s just this run!” She didn’t confuse his giddiness with amusement (he had already mentioned the lack of humor in their situation); it was just his way of dealing with the situation. Plus, he was always a competitive asshole. THAT part actually proved very helpful.

“Yeah well, I’m still ahead by total,” she replied, not enough emotion in her voice to taunt him. She finished the cleanup and tossed the rags into a bag, which she tied shut. Moving up to the front, Emma slid into the passenger seat. They passed cars and bodies at various points; one particularly bad accident next to a farm involved a pair of minivans, charred metal skeletons with an obscured logo on the side door. Looking forward, gray and black clouds rose in tendrils from the city ahead.

“You got enough gas to get there?” Anna asked.

He checked the gauge. “If we’re lucky… no. But, I still got those bullets.”

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Trifecta Challenge – Zombie Bunnies IV

This week’s topic word is –
scan•dal noun \ˈskan-dəl\

3 a: a circumstance or action that offends propriety or established moral conceptions or disgraces those associated with it
b : a person whose conduct offends propriety or morality

Use the word. Add 32-332 other words around it and you got yerself an entry.

Well I got a scandal. One more horrifying than text messages from gross politicians. Yeah, THAT terrifying.

My apologies to New Jerseyians, who are actually my biggest fans on here.

If you know what movies I am referring to in the third paragraph, you are my new best friend.

For now, let’s delve a little more deeply into the saga of…the Zombie Bunnies. *cue scary music*


Deep inside the headquarters of KillEmAll* Industries, the mood was bleak, as usual. They were in crisis mode, also as usual.

PJ Appleby was stewing as he assessed the latest situation with his assistants. “Ok, so we’re missing a container.” This was unusual; they were usually missing more than one; the Applebys believed in shipping cheaply. “What kind of environmental hazards are we looking at?”

One of his subordinates looked up from the map that was spread out on the table. “According to this, there were no graveyards along the route the driver took. No beaten paths in the Deep South near moonshiners, and he definitely didn’t drive through New Jersey at all. So all potential hazards, or plot lines to ‘B’ movies, were avoided. Except, well…”

“Well, what?” Appleby demanded.

“There is some farmland. Particularly this place.” He pointed to an area circled in red. “It’s a cabbage farm. Some old man owns it, usually complains about how the noise from trucks makes his crops wilt; even when we paid him a visit to point out how the active road helps control the rabbit population, he wouldn’t listen.”

Appleby considered this. A crazy old farmer -that’s not so bad. A little intimidation, maybe buy a few cabbages in goodwill, and they could weather this brewing scandal. God bless all the crazy farmers who grow the food that goes to America’s dinner tables.

“Ok, scramble the guys in dark suits and minivans to do their thing.” Before they wrapped up the meeting, Appleby asked another assistant; “What are the side effects of that last batch we shipped?”

“Inconclusive. Actually I haven’t gotten a report from the cute fuzzy animals lab. In fact I haven’t heard from them in some time.” He shrugged. “Eh, I’m sure they’re fine.”

*Named after Killian, Emma and Allen Appleby, the three children of PJ Appleby, discount greeting card magnate. Why, what were you thinking? Oh right, the discount chemical weapons he made his second billion on. Gotcha.

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