Frozen Future

The Dreadful Obazy looks out over the frozen landscape of the Mall. A freak winter storm has laid a thinck blanket of ice and snow over the Nations Capitol.

A zombie minion limps and lurches through the frozen slush staining to keep up with Obazy.

"You rape taxes, kill freedom, give food to all."

Obazy hits the zombie with a backhand across the face. A piece of his skin hangs from the back of his hand, dripping a thick black goo. A piece of the zombies ear flies through the air and lands with a soft smack on the frozen earth.

"Shut your mouth," utters Obazy through clinched teeth. "One misspoken word and our plan will fail. We have a tenious grip on the prople due to the media, and the den of evil."

The zombie minion looks at the frozen ground. "Me like the den of evil, Dawn of Dead, favorite movie. But California too sunny. Need more darkness and zombies in world."

Obazy looks at his loyal lap dog and quietly mouths a reply. "Out of the mouths of babes."