Zombie Strippers!

George W. Bush has won his fourth

consecutive term as president...

... taking Florida,

which due to a computer glitch...

... inherent in the Jeb B. voting

terminals, tallied one single vote...

... for President Bush

and Vice President Schwarzenegger.

Bush's presidency

was unanimously declared...

... Iegally binding

by the Supreme Court...

...as well as totally cool,

by Chief Justice Jenna Bush...

...who subsequently set in motion

another supreme kegger.

Following the landslide victory...

...a constitutional amendment banning

public nudity was implemented.

Shortly thereafter,

President Bush dissolved Congress...

... claiming it was cramping his style.

American troops

continue to be strung thin...

... due to the still-raging wars in Iraq,

Afghanistan, Syria, Iran, Lebanon...

...Libya, Pakistan, Venezuela,

France, Canada and Alaska.

One American corporation has

discovered...

...a scientific military solution

to the looming troop-shortage crisis.

Here at W Industries, top scientists...

... in cooperation

with the United States military...

...and due to the shortage

of American troops...

...are developing a toxic,

easily transmittable chemo virus...

... that acts to reanimate dead tissue.

But we assure you, due to the extreme

level of volatility of such tests...

... the research facilities

are unequivocally...

... in accordance with the United States

government level of standards...

...fail-safe.

Behold a pale horse.

Please help me! Help me!

Sir.

They're here.

Major. Thank God you guys are here.

-It's bad in there.

-lt better be, right, lieutenant?

We're the best of the best.

We drink napalm and piss fire.

Semper fi.

So, what seems to be the problem?

Believe it or not, zombies.

I like knives.

He likes knives.

Nothing like a good challenge.

We improvise and adapt, sir.

We just stopped that thing.

What was that called?

-Armageddon, sir.

-That's the one.

Lt. Ryker here killed Satan himself

with a sharp stick.

-Good work, soldier.

-Just doing my duty, sir.

-So where were we?

-Zombies, sir.

That's right, zombies.

Let's tell the squad the good news.

I live for it, sir.

Fall out, you maggots!

On the double, let's go, move it.

Go, go, go.

Recon's in zero minus three minutes.

On the double, dirtbags.

Today is a good day to die.

-Meet the team, private?

-Yes, sir.

Welcome to the best of the best, son.

Now move out, soldier!

Zombies.

Sh*t.

Take a good look, soldier.

You see this?

There's f***ing zombies out there.

Seen worse.

So, what are we dealing with here, doc?

It's a chemo virus

designed to reanimate dead tissue...

...and jump-start

the brain's motor function.

This would allow, say, a soldier

to continue fighting after death.

After one experiences death,

fear is more or less gone.

It enhances the combat mindset...

...the brain functions of one

fearless, uninhibited...

...the drive of a take-no-prisoners

soldier of raw survival instincts.

It more or less turns a soldier

into a super soldier.

The good news is...

...the test subjects in there

are not trained soldiers...

...but poor lost unfortunates

who've had no other choice...

...but to sell themselves

to scientific experiments.

Homeless, illegal immigrants,

the American middle class.

And what's the bad news?

The chemo virus'

molecular structures...

...deteriorate at an exponential rate

from host to host.

The zombified dead after that

are but mindless monsters...

...with a voracious appetite

for living flesh.

The virus is based

on the human X chromosome...

...so it stays more pure

from woman to woman.

But once you get a man in there,

like everything else...

...it all goes to sh*t.

So, what do we have to do to take

one of these zombies down, doc?

Well, what works for us is we've been

surgically removing...

...the medulla oblongata.

Or that.

We also found that a strong

electromagnetic pulse...

...can knock them out.

Right. Lieutenant, give the word.

All right, it's a turkey shoot.

Let's lose this armour.

Jesus.

What team of fuckups

designed this place?

We track as many as we can,

then we hit them with the big E.

-What, Elvis?

-Not Elvis, EMPD.

-Damn.

-Lieutenant.

-Alpha, Bravo, ten-hut!

-Move out.

Com station up and operational.

Alpha, Bravo, incoming at 0400.

Twenty metres, 10 o'clock.

Hold tight. Draw them in.

Holy sh*t.

Sometimes I like guns.

Alpha, Bravo, incoming at 6 o'clock.

Wait for it.

Do it.

Wait for it.

Blast them.

Report. Comstat, come in.

Kwan, you there?

Com's down.

Electromagnetic blast.

Equipment's fried.

So how do we make sure

they're zero threat?

Oh, no.

Sir, the com phone....

Look out!

Somebody made a mistake.

Somebody made a big f***ing mistake.

Fire at will.

Alpha, Bravo, get to the side!

-I want more bombs, sir.

-Sir, orders from comstat base.

The memo reads:

"Osama to attack

within the United States."

Wait, what does that mean?

It's code. It means

we've been warned of the dangers.

But better to ignore the problem

and it's bound to go away.

Got it. That's what we're doing?

Me, personally...

...I'm aiming for the head.

All right. The good old-fashioned way.

Alpha, Bravo teams,

let's clean up the rest of the mess.

-Wrap it up.

-Recon!

This is where it bit me.

It's not that bad. Don't worry, son.

We'll get you fixed up right as rain.

-Mission accomplished, sir.

-All right.

Where'd I hear that before?

Let's get a head count.

Yes, sir. Squad, form up.

Where's Byrdflough?

Off the stage, a**hole.

Hi.

I'm looking for Madam Blavatski.

God bless.

Are you kidding me?

This place is more illegal than that lD.

All right.

That was the ever-feline Kat.

Now, she's working hard up there

for you boys, so be extra nice.

And remember, Rhinos

is an ultra-exclusive gentlemen's club.

So exclusive members only,

if you know what I mean.

Now, the management

would also like to remind you...

...that nothing comes out

of your pants...

...but tips for the girls.

B*tch.

-What a talent.

-Slut.

-My hero.

-Whatever.

Okay, ber-sluts, we have new meat.

This is Jessy.

-Local girl, right?

-Yeah.

Born and bred, Sartre, Nebraska.

-Figures.

-Grew up on a farm?

Yep. Right again.

-Eat a lot of corn?

-Yep.

Good. Now, we make her at home...

...so we are all-- How you say?

--happy with the crabs.

No, not crabs, but other crustaceans.

You mean "happy as a clam."

Clams are molluscs,

not crustaceans.

Whatever.

So you sit here.

We are all happy as clams.

Hi.

Okay.

Lilith!

Go, go, go. You dance.

Oh, Mr. Essko, hello.

Shut your pie-hole.

Hey, boss.

Back off.

Back off, you walking herpie, you.

This is nice.

Never touch.

Not the jacket,

not the shirt, not the hair.

You touch me again, I'll kill you.

I love a man of authority.

Well, hey there, sweet thing.

How about some private time?

Fat chance, fuckwad.

And now, an announcement...

...from your host, Mr. Ian Essko.

Tired of that same old lap dance?

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