JJBA- The Speedwagon Foundation Archives

Incident #1: England, 1888

Begin recording

This is a written account, and has been transcribed as such, complete with any spelling errors.
Agent's notes
Agent S⬛⬛⬛⬛: So this is an account from 1888?
Agent G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Yes, it's authentic. It's why they've got us wearing gloves and masks, it's incredibly fragile. Yes, we've got copies on hand, and scans in the digital archives, but they wanted us to check the original for any information that could've slipped through the cracks.
Agent S⬛⬛⬛⬛: How do we know this wasn't all made up by some drunk pickpocket to make some cash?
Agent G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: This was written down by the founder of this very organisation himself! And at the back, there's some pages from a book that's no longer in publication.
Agent S⬛⬛⬛⬛: Fine, I'll believe it when I see it....
Agent G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: What do you even get out of being such a skeptic? Honestly.....
Begin Transcript
It was a really bad wintur that year, and we all thourght we would get frostbite and die. Me and K⬛⬛⬛⬛ had resorted to taking a boat onto the Thames to pick the wallets of any bodies in there, as rich folk weren't heading down to ogre street anymore.
(After I reassured him that this information would not be passed on to any constables, Tattoo continued.)
Anyway, we was out one night when this big bloke shows up. Looks like a rugby player, innit? Anyway, he absolutely bollocks us when we try to mug him, but he didn't kill us, so you went all mushy for him, didn't ya, Rob? Anyway, once you'd made all friendly with him, this big crowd shows up. I thought it was just a load of fellers, but there was something wrong about them. Fear went right through me, like when I trod on that nail when I were a mudlark. Now, Rob thought they were an angry mob, and he says he won't let them hurt his new beau... I mean, "friend". Relax, Rob, I ain't gonna tell the fuzz!

Anyway, he tells poshboy to go get what he needs, and that he'll hold the crowd off. But this weren't a normal crowd! I'm used to mobs, but all these folks were grey, and they had these big bloody teeth! They looked like walking corpses! So I tells you to run, Rob, and hitch a ride on poshboy's carriage back to his place, so you could keep an eye on him. Hung under the chassis, didn't you? I told you me n'K⬛⬛⬛⬛ would hold off the mob, but they were fuckin' terrifying. And there's like 200 of them! So me and K⬛⬛⬛⬛ climb up to the roofs, right, because these things can't really climb, they just shamble around. We yell out and get everyone to go upstairs, because the stairs in these houses are real shit, and the weird crowd can't walk up them. I noticed they just shamble forward, they even bash their heads into walls, like there's flies in their brains. But then the sun comes up... And they all fry! They fry like bacon in the pan! And they all screamed and turned to dust in the snow! I dunno what happened to you, Rob, but I bet it wasn't freakier than that.
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S⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh come on... Do you really believe that?
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: It's an authentic account! Everyone's heard of the first coming of D⬛⬛ B⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛, and this is a firsthand account of a zombie attack. It's a classic class 4 event.
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: Of course I've heard of Dio. But why is this the only account of the zombie attack? It's weird.
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Most people in Ogre Street didn't talk to any authorities, and wouldn't talk to Mr S⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ if he was with J⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛. Only T⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ agreed, because K⬛⬛⬛⬛ couldn't speak English.
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: And how do we know he wasn't off his head on opium?
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh, don't be such a skeptic. And there's another account from 1888!
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: You mean the comedy guide "An upper class ladies' guide to monster hunting?" We all know that was written by a depressed widow in a time when women weren't allowed to even touch their....
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: She was a survivor of a terrible tragedy!
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: She had her husband's head taxidermied.
(Post-transcript note: M⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ A⬛⬛⬛⬛ excused himself at this point. The arguing goes on for a few more minutes)
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh fine, we'll read out the obviously fictional account here. I mean, eye lasers? Everyone knows D⬛⬛ didn't do that in '87.

Begin Transcript

It is of vital importance that every young lady should familiarise herself with the art of killing the cursed undead. I would recommend to familiarise oneself with the deadly arts of the orient, whether being Japanese or Chinese. Your whole body must become a weapon! To be widowed whilst expecting is a tragedy I wish upon no lady of any class, whether she be a prostitute or a princess. My beloved husband J⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ was taken from me by a terrible beheaded vampire upon our honeymoon, and I mourn this deeply. However, I believe in deeds, not words, so I shall endeavour to educate the ladies of Great Britain and her colonies on how to beat defend themselves from the legions of the undead, seeing as how no soldier or constable has ever shown any interest in such a thing. The vampire who took my husband is gone, but there may be others in the future, so I shall serve as a guide to any woman searching to protect herself.
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(Silence)
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: See? She also saw D⬛⬛ before '87!
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: This book recommends women to learn how to use a chainsaw, and contains information on how to fight a vampire without having to adjust your corsets. It's a blatant work of fiction.
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: We can't confirm it, but it's an account of a class 5 event. We can't confirm the ancient sources either, but we've still got them on file. Anyway, this was before everyone had a camera in their back pocket.
S⬛⬛⬛⬛: Oh alright, grandpa.
G⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛: I'm barely half your age, young l... Oh, nevermind. Anyway, this is all on tape now, and it matches the year and events of the T⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ account. This lady was also a friend of the founder of this institution! And she also took the witness of the next account under her wing.
A⬛⬛⬛⬛: Interesting... Shall we move on?
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