Hey, friends! How are you all doing this fine day? You might have noticed a distinct lack of typos. That’s because it’s Flynn this time. So nice to see you all. Last description, Red promised to tell the story of The No Good Very Bad Blooddrive, but Red’s chillin’ in the flats corner for misbehaving and in general being a snarkbox. I have a transcript that Red told to me through the bars. I had to threaten to swallow the key to get this juicy story.

“So there was this blooddrive my college put on every year so they could pretend to be good people. Like three rooms of the first floor were cleared of furniture and taken over by white sterile silence. Also lots and lots of needles. In senior year I finally got dragged to it by a few friends who wanted to do a good deed before their morals were devoured by corporate America -- like y’do.

We check in and go to take our seats when I see a woman kneeling on the ground like she’s lost a contact or something. I ask what’s wrong. She doesn’t answer, instead staring at the floor with hair hiding her face. I mean. I’ve seen The Ring. It was kind of a huge nope situation looking back on it. Also. The Ring isn’t scary. I know, I know. Gonna get backlash for that, but. Tangents.

I make the mistake of touching her shoulder to get her attention. When she looks up it’s clear -- this lady is a zombie. So zombies are real and I need to find a treehouse. She’s growling as patients start to snarl and rise undead-ly from the hospital beds. My survival instincts kick in and I karate chop the lady in the face like a fucking boss. Metallica is playing. I’m roundhousing zombies. It’s literally the Evil Dead. You guys.

Then I get bowled over by five of the fuckers and the camera pans out from my dead body, overlaid with one of James Hetfield’s sweet sweet guitar solos. It was epic.”

And there you have it. The very true and in no way made up story of Red by Red and no one else and especially not me. Byyyye.

*flynn