Pastryfish: It's never considered "war profiteering" if you use the money you make in war to go kill zombies. Good luck in waging your own Operation Debt Zombie Overlord! My tax dollars have never been better spent!
12_Gauge_Chimp: It's good that you're helping your mom kill her personal Debt Zombies. I hope she's as hard as the rest of us DebtSlayers. Don't get caught up if she keeps inviting them into her house over and over again and asking you to expend your ammo eradicating them, though. That can turn ugly. Sometimes those folks turn out to be Debt Zombie Sympathizers. I've got some relatives that never met a debt zombie they didn't like. Be careful. There's no helping those folks. Sometimes I think that wanting to get eaten is their own sick fetish that they keep indulging in.
theclockwork: That's just a different kind of Debt Zombie, unfortunately. You've got 2300 dollars of zombie hanging on your table scraps, my man. Don't expect to see that hard-earned zombie chow anytime soon. May be time to get the chainsaw after them.
Trebor: Excellent work! You're a disciplined tactician! Don't worry about the House Zombie. That's just one of those things that even responsible people end up adopting. As long as we don't get something the size of a fucking cave troll and an appetite that consumes every bit of ammo you have and then some (more on this later).
ZombieGranny: I feel for you my hippy comrade! Sometimes those things can pop out of the graves like Romero's kids and start raging like 28 Days Later all in the span of a day. The operative phrase is "and pay them all", though. You're a strong general in this war, even if that means undergrowth nibbling. You've taught your offspring to nibble well.
I have a confession to make:
When I first got out of school, my wife and I had an orgy with the Debt Zombies, because one of the Zombie Masters (Bank Of Zombie America) slathered enough makeup on them to make them look sexy. We took out a home loan with ZERO DOWN (really, how could that
be a bad idea?) and bought a house we could barely afford. We were okay for a while, living paycheck-to-paycheck, but maybe we made too much noise. Maybe we weren't being quiet enough. They mostly came at night....mostly. First, it was cars that needed tending to, then a few zombies would break a thing or two in our new Zombie House. The credit cards came out, because we had to borrow ammo, and there was bloodthirsty price gouging involved. Then, somehow, the Licensing and Accreditation Zombies must have heard us nearing the end of our training. They must have smelled us. Someone must have tipped them off!
Oh Dear God! The L&A zombies descended upon us like you'd think some hateful scientist had turned a whole pro football team and bussed them to our location! Our pathetic perimeter was completely overrun by shit that could have only been borne in the womb of some freak genetic cross recombining the worst of capitalism with the worst of governmental regulation! The abomination was unleashed upon us, and we turned to the Zombie Masters (falling into their plan exactly as they had carefully engineered) for more ammo. God, the ammo was getting expensive!
Then, one night, in a fit of passion, the Masters implanted a Parental Recombined Zombie Pregnancy in my wife's womb, and by God They made it costly! Illness Zombies, they all came, and once again the Zombie Credit Cards reveled and feasted on our blood. We did our best, but we were completely overrun and calling in reinforcements, mostly from the Masters. We got a loan from a friend, and it was immediately hosed out onto the endless field of all-consuming zombies. We've yet to repay it back.
But we were strong. We knew our plans were sound. We knew that the reinforcements were on their way. We knew that we were going to get Mil-Spec, high-yield, 6,000-round per minute firepower to lay unbelievable vengeance! If only we could hold out! If only. We thought about decapitating the Zombie House at one point, briefly, and running to the hills and bugging out. It almost got that bad.
But it didn't, and our reinforcements came in. Starting in October, we were dropping JDAMs on their asses and had REAL fire support for the first time! not from the Zombie Masters, but from the righteous fount of Gainful Employment! We turned the tides! It was a fucking financial Normandy!
The House Zombie recently adjusted its ARM, but it has only grown in size by 0.5%. Bitch, please! We can take potshots at that all day and not get tired! Hell, that's just target practice! They died! We killed them! We've got more ammo in stock!
As an aside, we've still got the biggest and ugliest of the L&A zombies bearing down upon us right now, but we've upgraded our weaponry. They'll die soon. And, in the interests of my disclosure of our weaknesses, we've still got the slowest moving, fattest, most ignorant government subsidized Debt Zombies still on us: Student Loans. Better than 6 figures for each of us. Not to worry, we've got those fat stinking corpses chained in our backyards right now. Their size is locked down, their movement is restricted by the Federal Gummunt. They won't be turning into ragers anytime soon, and if they do, well, we'll just have to concentrate all our forward fire on them and unleash a little more Hate downrange. No fucking big deal!
As it stands, all I have to do is go into the backyard and slap those fat motherfuckers upside the head with a shovel to keep them in line. Every now and again I feed them the random possum that wanders into our yard. Hey, the deserve it. Hey, no one's perfect.
We're all doing our best here.