{ACT ONE}

"Gimmie a ciggie, ye'h?" Paul said, looking over to John.
John smiled, pursing his lips, "Did ye forget what happened last time, Macca? Is that the zombie brain rot getting to yer?"
The slightly taller male shot a cold, undead glare to the shorter, "For the last time, John, m' not a zombie,"
John's smile only seemed to grow teasingly wider, "Livin' dead, breathing departed, animated corpse, whatever,-" he puffed the cigarette into Paul's face playfully, "-yer still technically dead, princess,"
"Call me princess again an' yew'll soon join me, 'm?"

TW: Blood and General Gore, what do you expect? Its a zombie fanfic