Tim Bentley, an everyday teenager finds the world's population melting before him and reforming as featureless zombies...All he wanted was a packet on Sherbert Lemons!!!
Tim Bentley, an everyday teenage boy who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That place and time being the papershop down the road and 8:26am, Tuesday 16th August, 1987. Nothing especially wrong with that time though, it was just co-incidence that it was wrong, it wasn't it's fault. I rather like that time actually. Apart from the blood wrenching agony at 8:26.02am. But I digress, as I said Tim was at the papershop buying a packet of Sherbert Lemons when the unimaginable happened! Bernard the shopkeeper had dissolved into a horrific mess of puddling slime and, as if that was bad enough, the Sherbert Lemons had been reduced to the much less desirable Lemon Sherbert. Tim looked around hesitantly before sprinting into the street where even more bodies were pooling. The first thoughts racing through his mind were, "Oh sh..", well that's not important right now, though I can assure you they were along the lines of "oh poop". As he ran down the street, avoiding the flood of melted human, he tripped over his "flock-of-seagulls" haircut and went skidding into the greengrocers.
Mr Martin the greengrocer was there and looked his normal self... apart from his missing arm!!! Oh wait, he never had his left arm! It was lost in a tragic accident in the butchers years ago, he was waiting for 3 pork chops and a pound of mince when Silent Dan the serial arm killer walked in and stole it before Mr Martin had even noticed. "You alreet lad?" he said in a surly manner. "Uh, yeah I guess," Tim replied in a main-character like manner. "Good, you just looked a bit worried and tender is all," Mr Martin stuttered, (another one of his afflictions. Basically the bloke was falling apart!) "No, really I'm fine.... sorry what?!" Tim replied, slowly backing out of the shop. "Where you goin' lad? I'm not finished with ye yet!!!!" quoted Mr Martin from the lesser known Shakespeare play, An Ode To Thee Olde Paperboy. "I think you are mate!" Tim shouted as he jumped over a swirling puddle of limbs and sprinted down the road. He decided to run home to his dad's shed and pick a weapon. Now you might think that this might seem a bit extreme as Tim doesn't really know what's happened yet, and you're right: it is extreme, but Tim's just that kind of guy. Tim's dad was an unusual bloke, he would often come home from his job as a factory worker and spend hours at a time in his shed. Tim had only been in it once as a kid and remembered a box filled with sports stuff like javelins and hockey sticks.
We join Tim after his journey home, (which will be written in great detail as a Christmas Extra), and after fighting off his pet dog Snuffley the Rottweiller, Tim finally reached his dad's shed. He tread carefully over nuts, bolts and various piles of magazines such as Womens Fitness, Playboy, Airfix catalogues and TV Guides with David Hasslehoff on. Luckily Tim was unaware of his dad's obsession with the man, Baywatch was just the start, but Knight Rider had fuelled his passion. Tim sat on a stool covered in questionable stains and surveyed the strange collection of everyday items that could be used to defend himself. He thought about using a garden fork but found it was too heavy for his puny arms, and he was a skinny bugger, and this meant that shovels, lawnmowers, sledgehammers and shot putt were out of the question. Luckily though, hidden in the back of the shed under another pile of sticky magazines, (Cosmopolitan), Tim found an axe. It was light enough to carry and for Tim to swing should he get any more weird pervy-zombies chasing after him. Now all Tim needed to do was find his parents, which had slipped his mind somehow, and reach decent shelter before dark, but that should be easy seeing as it was now 8:31am....shouldn't it?