"Boy, are we glad to see you, whoever you are. Shit, I already know who you are. What the hell am I talking about here? You're Abel Zorro Rodriguez, master swordsman and defender of the truth. Glad you showed up when you did Abel."
"I'm not glad," says Madame Bitters. Johnny Boy has rolled off her and she feels unfulfilled, like she's been cheated.
Angie can't think straight. Her nipples are burning with unfettered lesbian lust.
Lola tries to look dignified, like she isn't really all hot and bothered. She fails miserably.
Fran hauls herself to her feet. Buck and Abel Zorro Rodriguez can't tear their eyes away from her exquisite form.
"Girl you look sensational," Buck mutters appreciatively. "Like a million dollars."
"Not all green and crinkly I hope," Fran quips.
"Certainly not," Buck says. "Certainly not."
Abel Zorro Rodriguez is also transfixed by Fran's exquisite form. But there is no place in Abel Zorro Rodriguez's mentality for frivolity. He recognises immediately that there are things to be done here. Otherwise the result could be catastrophic.
"We are all in great danger," Abel says. "Mortal peril, if you will. These inbred mutant hoody zombies are a real pain in the ass around these parts. And they've obviously targetted you people. Fortunately for you, I was out and about with my trusty sword righting wrongs and reversing injustices when I happened upon you good people falling under attack."
"I enjoyed the fall," Madame Bitters says, lasciviously eyeing the bulge in Johnny Boy's trousers that just won't seem to go away.
"So what do we do now, Abel Zorro Rodriguez?" Todd enquires.
"I have a plan," Abel announces.
"What is it?" Buck asks.
"It's a method of working out a strategy. Working out what to do," Abel says.
"I know what a plan is Zorro," Buck groans. "What is your plan?"
"There are many of these inbred mutant hoody zombies around here," Abel says. "We have to exterminate them. Otherwise they take over and all is lost."
"So, like, how do we go about that?" Nick chips in.
"We must leave this place right now and proceed post haste to the home of the wise man. He will advise us."
"But I'm wearing Tommy Choo stilettos," Fran says. "If this plan of yours involves walking in mud and shit, they'll get ruined. Likewise my little black designer dress. And it's pissing down outside."
"I have given these things consideration," Abel Zorro says. "Providing that this camper is still operational, we can drive to the residence of the wise man, and you won't get anything other than mildly erotically damp. So the black number justs hugs your figure a little tighter, a little closer."
"what about me?" Angie blurts.
"My good friend Buck here suggested you do some pelvic floor exercises to kind of tighten up," Abel Zorro says. "I'd suggest you take his advice on board."
"And me?" Lola asks.
"You got nice pins," Buck says. "But you need to grow some tits. You look like a guy from the waist up. Apart from the lips. You got sexy lips kid."
"I don't know how to take that," Lola says.
"If you bend over it would be my pleasure to give you a demonstration..." Buck quips.
"Enough!" Abel Zorro Rodriguez states emphatically. "We need to get moving, and we need to do it right now. Otherwise they'll be back in numbers. And we don't want that happening."
"I'll drive," Nick says. "Providing the camper is serviceable. But you'll have to lead the way to the wise one's house Abel Zorro Rodriguez."
"You got that dude," Abel Zorro says. "Let's go!"
"That's a good line Abel Zorro," Nick says. "I was kind of expecting you to say 'Let's get the hell out of here' - which is the most used line in modern cinematic history. In case you were unaware of that fact."
"Just fucking drive why don'tcha," Abel Zorro snarls.
Nick turns the ignition key, and amazingly, considering the bullet damage, the engine fires up.
Nick drives the camper off site to the road.
"Which way?" he asks.
"Take a right," Abel Zorro Rodriguez tells him.
Progress is slow. Thunder rumbles, lightning splits the dark night sky, and rain positively batters the windscreen.
Disturbingly, shadowy figures skitter across the roadway as our group go ever onward. Although this scares him a little, Nick continues to focus on his driving.
"There's a left turn up ahead," Abel Zorro tells him. They are driving through a canopy of trees. Things move outside in the darkness. Sinister things. "Watch out you don't miss the turn," Abel Zorro says.
Nick screws his eyes up and spots the turnoff looming up ahead. Some chattering thing sprints across the road. The speed it moves at is unnatural. Like Usain Bolt on speed. Nick concentrates hard to ignore it.
"Here?" Nick asks.
"That's the one. Go for it," Abel Zorro says.
Nick makes the turn, they wind up outside a brick built cottage.
"This is the home of the wise one," Abel Zorro says.
"Don't park too close to the door Nick," Buck says. "I kind of want to see the effect a little rain has on Fran's little black Dior number. I'm thinking 'cling' if you get my drift."
Lola is wondering if she is really a closet lesbian. She was getting kind of jiggy with Angie back at the campground, and Angie was somehow much more satisfactory in the jiggy department than Johnny Boy ever was, even though he harboured a considerable baton.
Which in turn is fascinating Madame Bitters. Previously her passions have been cake centred, but she can't shake the thought of a damned good pounding on the end of Johnny Boy's baton out of her mind.
The camper pulls up.
Nick cuts the engine.
"Let's go," Abel Zorro says.
They pile out and Abel Zorro rings the doorbell.
The door opens.
Amazingly it doesn't creak.
"Why, Abel Zorro!" the occupant exclaims delightedly.
"J-Man, oh wise one. Good to see you again!"
They hug, in a fraternal and distinctly not gay way.
Our friends enter the home of the J-Man. Fran has got more than a little damp in the rain and is attracting undue attention.
"So what's up?" J-Man asks, a little curious as to the nature of this unscheduled visit.
"It's them God damned inbred mutant hoody zombies my friend," Abel Zorro says. "We need your help J-Man. They've gone too far this time, attacking these sex obssessed teens."
"Really?" J-Man asks.
"Really," Abel Zorro says.
Spotting Buck for the first time, the J-Man says:
"Jeeze! Buck! How ya doin'?"
"I'm doing fine J-Man. Just don't hug me alright? I can't stand all of that male bonding crap."
"Okay," the J-Man says. "I respect that. Did you guys eat yet?"
"Not for some time," Fran admits.
The J-Man gives Fran the twiceover. She's gotten a little wet in the rain, and the little black Dior number hugs her tighter than skin. He likes what he sees. He's a sucker for long legs and perfectly formed cleavage. As wise as he is.
Fran reminds him of somebody he's met before, probably on the net, but he can't for the life of him think who it was.
"I got food," the J-Man says. "I got some jalapenos, some habaneros and some Bird's Eyes and I knocked up a chilli con carne. I got tacos too. Chilli con carne literally translated from the Spanish, means, quite simply, chilli with meat."
"I was kind of aware of that," Abel Zorro says.
"Of course you were, my fine amigo," the J-Man says. "I was just explaining for the benefit of your friends."
"To be honest with you the J-Man, we didn't really drop in for dinner," Buck says. "Although we do appreciate the offer and we will take you up on it. What we really came for was some sound advice."
"You need to sort out the inbred mutant hoody zombies, right?" the J-Man says.
"Nail on the head J-Man," Buck says.
"There's a house," the J-Man says. "A large house. People round these parts are convinced it's the focal point of the inbred mutant hoody zombie phenomenon. We could go the house, and nip this thing in the bud."
"But I've only got the Browning shotgun, and Abel Zorro just has his sword. We don't really have the firepower to take them on. They'll cream us."
"Funny you should say that," the J-Man says. "I have weapons galore. No problemo. And those freaks keep a kinda cute golden retriever up there who goes by the name of 'Bear'. I'd love to liberate that poor mutt. He doesn't deserve to have masters like that."
"They've got a dog?" Fran says. "That's terrible! I say we go and kick some ass!"
"Hear hear!" Buck says.
Abel Zorro checks that his decapitation sword is still sharp. It is as keen as it ever was.
"Let's do it," Abel Zorro says.
"Yeah, let's," the J-Man says. "But let's have tacos first. I insist. Then I'll take you guys to the charnel house - with a dazzling array of firepower. It's gonna be a total wipeout."
In the next instalment, our friends will enter a living hell. If you are of a nervous disposition it is recommended that you leave this story right now. Or consume vast volumes of Chianti Classico or beer.
Or failing that, spicy tacos.
To be continued...possibly...