December 31, 2012 by khrisgolder
No matter how deep the wound, how hard the impact, or how vicious the bite: I will be alright, as long as I spray myself with antiseptic.
If you’re looking for someone close to you, they’re dead. If they’re undead, you’ll be forced to kill them. If they’re still alive, then they’re evil, and you’ll be forced to kill them anyway.
The real reason women are so moody is because you’re actually interacting with a series of different clones. Also, if she cackles like a girl, shoots like a girl, and hightails it like a girl, sometimes it’s really her twin brother in a wig.
It will take me fifteen years of trial and error before I will be able to run, aim and shoot at the same time.
Blue herbs are the dumbest pickup since the banana peel in Mario Kart.
The odds of a woman surviving a zombie apocalypse are directly related to the amount of cleavage she shows in her outfit.
Don’t trust a douchebag in sunglasses (go figure).
Pack a lockpick. Because the only thing more complicated than developing a vaccine for an ever-mutating zombie virus is finding three gold shards, a red key card, an oak tiger mask, a replica shotgun, a four digit passcode written on the back of an oil painting in invisible ink, a piano with a missing wire, and a statuette of a little old lady that swallowed the fly.
Never partner up with a Redfield. You will die a horrible death, but not before being turned into a hideous creature. Otherwise, if you’re lucky, you’ll only be temporarily stupefied by a ridiculous mind-control device or will be completely swept under the rug.