No, go club

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"You must find them!" He yelled, his tone of voice sounds like Stewie mixed with Starscream along with Cartman. "You must find all them fishies!" The zombie added as he dragged his leg across the concrete with little flesh he has left.

He could've sworn he died in the lake, but a walrus saved him. Like how can a walrus survive warm weather? They're supposed to be in Antarctica! or at least. What the zombie had thought. 

He sighed.

 I need to go to a fish club. Maybe that's where they must be located?

As the zombie flew along with the flocks of crows, with his buttocks sticking out. He spotted a club and immediately landed on his feet. With happiness, he had opened the door and saw all them fishies dancing on the dance floor. They turned their heads towards him and gasp with fright. ''Ahhh! THAT HOE IS A NO GO!'' they shouted out and ran. You could literately see the poles flying around as if it were to be a bull. It looked pretty fun. 

Oh no, did they call me a shovel? I don't shove holes with a pump, perhaps, where did the wormholes go?

Shrugging out of his thoughts, he looked up and approached the flying pole, and rode on top of it as it swayed back and forth. The fishies turned their heads with awe, and ooo'd out with delight. Somehow they thought it was hella cool. A zombie ridin' a pole, something you don't see every day, right?

''AYYE LONG TIME NO SEE!'' A fish screamed, with anger, seeing that I was a fish hunter or more like. 'I just wanted a fish to play with.' kind of zombie. I turned my head, ignoring his voice and faced the crowd.

''FLAP OUR FINS, FLAP, FLAP HERE WE GO!'' The fishies shouted with a sing-song voice. The zombie landed in the crowd of people, with happiness and joined the squad. ''FAP FAP, OUR FINS-- I LOVE YOU FISHIES! BUT I NEED MY WHORE!!''





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