It’s been quite an inside joke how much I love playing the game Left for Dead 2 (i.e., the most awesome zombie killing game ever). My friends, family, and co-workers will typically ask me, “So, how many zombies did you slay this weekend?”
My typical response is, “Thousands. And I didn’t even write a note to their mothers thanking them for the pleasure.”
Why do I have such an infatuation with the murderous frenzy enabled by my mouse and keyboard? Well, for one, killing zombies is insanely fun and intoxicating. I mean, where else can you grab a chainsaw, slice the heads off of 20 zombies in one go, and not feel guilty? Yes, the PETZ (People for the Ethical Treatment of Zombies) are after me. They shall meet the same end as those uber-disgusting zombies, especially as I shove a bat down their throats and molest their colons (statistically, most zombies are male because females have this thing called intuition and common sense. And the tendency to carry pepper spray and a taser).
Let’s start with stats
Okay, let’s talk about how little of a life I have. At this point in time, I have logged 1,195 hours of zombie-killing madness. That’s almost fifty (50) days of my life that I will never get back. During these 50 days of my life, I have killed over 370,000 zombies. I’m my own personal genocidal zombie-killing machine.
If we were ever in a zombie apocalypse, I’m the one you would want in the bunker next to you. I’d own. And I’d probably eat you if I got hungry (sorry).
So what do I get out of killing zombies?
Well, for one, it’s a great weight loss plan. I’m serious. I should totally market the fuck out of killing zombies to all the fat-ass bastards out there, because it totally works. Well, for me at least.
I used to weigh 220 pounds (for you metric system folks, that is about 100 kilograms). I went on a zombie-killing binge, and brought myself to 190 pounds (86 kilograms) in less than a month. Unhealthy? Most definitely. Zombie-killing-fantastic? Hell, yes! I sent so many zombies to their maker that even God asked me to slow down because he couldn’t keep up with the virtual intake.
So what else? Oh, yes. The actual art of the zombie kill. The headshot. The slicing off of the head with my trusty ax. The gratification I get when I kill a zombie lunging at me from above and watching the corpse flail around lifelessly and fly past me, landing with a thud. I then virtually spit on the corpse, do a little shaky dance, make a maniacal laugh, and then move on to my next victim (it could be you, if you were a zombie).
I like the instant gratification of the game. There’s no foreplay. No buttering the victims up. The moment you start the game, you’re armed with a weapon and good to go. Just kill or be killed. Just make it to the safe room. And there’s hundreds of zombies in your way. Oh, the joy. The challenge. The blood. Yes, those zombies all deserve to meet their end, and I shall give it to them.
But aside from that, Left for Dead is a very humanitarian game. It’s a co-operative environment. You’re sent into anarchy with three other people. So your job is not only to look out for yourself, but also for your teammates (yes, I do try to justify my carnage).
There’s strategy involved from getting from point A to point B. You can rush it and be pounced (and die a horrible death), or take your time and finess your way through the wonderful killing environment that a zombie-apocalyptic world should be.
So what is a zombie-apocalyptic world like?
Well, the game starts off in this city that closely resembles…
Seriously? Who cares! I just want to kill zombies. Give me a freakin’ gun, an awesome melee weapon, and let me go to town on those fuckers.
I’ve molested so many zombies with a baseball bat that even Freddy Krueger wakes up with nightmares from my expeditions.
To be fair, the game does progress you through some kind of make-shift story, just as a porno tries to insert some kind of narrative so you don’t feel completely bad for just, well, having a blast (pun so totally intended).
My Dear Sweet Rochelle
So what is the zombie-apocalyptic world like? For one, there is this really hot African-american chick (aka, Rochelle) with a gun, a chainsaw, and a nice ass (need I say more?). There’s also a stupid fat bastard (who I would totally eat), a dumb redneck, and a hustler. Oh yes, and a shit-load of zombies to kill.
On some maps, there are characters from the first Left for Dead game. No notable people here. They all are horrible characters. Yes, even you Zoey, you stupid, non-awesome, white, trailer-trash hillbilly woman who wears this ugly ass pink jacket and has a laugh that could be a special weapon against the undead. Sorry, Zoey. I would still totally watch you make out with Rochelle though.
My favorite character by far (in case you haven’t guessed it) is Rochelle. She is probably the least stereotyped of the bunch, and has this amazing laugh. I also find her game character to be quite attractive. I’m not alone in this department. Even gay guys can appreciate the awesomeness of Rochelle’s character (and agree with me that Zoey is just a bitch).
I attempt to play Rochelle’s character every chance I get. For you ladies who think I lack in the commitment department… no, I still adore Rochelle after 1,195 hours of my life. However, each time I play Zoey, I usually hurl myself off the top of a thirty-story building (you know, to uhm, redeem myself or something).
If possible, I’d marry Rochelle. We’d have Rochelle babies. And I’d silently raise an army to rid the world of zombie tyranny (Valve, please make this your next game).
So I like killing zombies. What’s next?
More dead zombies! Oh, I’m not done killing by a long shot. In some twisted, alternative universe, I’m some sadistic serial killer who preys on alien fetuses. In this one, I just kill zombies.
You need not fear me. Unless, of course, you’re a noob. The stupid, damn noobs. Stop shooting me, stop getting in my way, and stop doing stupid shit. Seriously, I’ll burn your ass to death if I see you.
And on that note, I’m off to send more zombies to their maker. Cheers.
372,232 zombies were harmed in the making of this article.