The zombie took a bite.
“MY TACO TUESDAY TACO!” Dave shrieked.
He jolted upright. Outside the window, a single Conehead Zombie was shuffling toward the house — but this one was different. In its hand? Not a traffic cone. A taco.
“He’s adapting,” Penny warned.
The zombie took a bite.
“MY TACO TUESDAY TACO!” Dave shrieked.
He jolted upright. Outside the window, a single Conehead Zombie was shuffling toward the house — but this one was different. In its hand? Not a traffic cone. A taco.
“He’s adapting,” Penny warned.
Copyright %!s(int=2026) © %!d(string=Steady Express Ember) Graphic Design Eye
