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In an Earthly world resembling the 1950s, a cloud of space radiation has shrouded the planet, resulting in the dead becoming zombies that desire live human flesh. A company called Zomcon ... See full summary »
Bill Robinson: I'd say I'm a pretty darn good father. My father tried to eat me, I don't remember trying to eat Timmy. Helen Robinson: Bill, just because your father tried to eat you, does that mean we all have to be unhappy... forever?
Bill Robinson: We're all getting funerals - all three of us! Helen Robinson: Bill, get your own funeral. Timmy and I are going zombie.
Helen Robinson: You crazy, wonderful zombie!
Mr. Bottoms: Is that blood on your zombie? Timmy Robinson: It was a nose bleed. Mr. Bottoms: That's not a fresh zombie, only fresh zombies bleed, son. Timmy Robinson: I meant my nose. Mr. Bottoms: How did blood from your nose get onto your zombie? Timmy Robinson: I wiped it there.
Priest: Head coffin please.
Cindy Bottoms: Hi Timmy. Surprised? Timmy Robinson: Sort of. Cindy Bottoms: It's okay. It's sort of cool in a way. And he's a lot nicer. Timmy Robinson: Do you wanna play catch? Cindy Bottoms: Sure. Timmy Robinson: Does, uh, your zombie wanna play? What do you call him anyways? Cindy Bottoms: I don't know. Right now I'm just calling him 'Daddy.' Timmy Robinson: Sure, okay. Come on. Cindy Bottoms: Come on, Daddy.
Helen Robinson: [to Fido] I wish I would have known you before... before you died.
Bill Robinson: Now, I know you're not supposed to have a hand gun until you're twelve... but it can come in real handy.
Little Girl: Grandpa's fallen and he's getting up!
School Children: [singing] In the brain and not the chest. Head shots are the very best.
Timmy Robinson: I knew you wouldn't eat me, boy!
Public Service Officer: The elderly; they seem friendly enough but can you really trust them? No. So don't get caught off guard.
Mr. Bottoms: They're not particularly fast, are they?
Priest: From dust have you come and to dust shall you return, but from dust shall you not be resurrected.
Bill Robinson: Well, she is over sixty-five, Helen, and old people can't be trusted. [to Mr. Bottoms] Bill Robinson: Ain't that right? Mr. Bottoms: Yeah, we've had a lot of trouble with old people.
Helen Robinson: [to Fido] Why aren't you eating me?
Helen Robinson: I'm pregnant. Bill Robinson: Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. You're just gaining a little weight. Helen Robinson: [puts his hand on her belly and giggles] Bill Robinson: I just don't think on my salary I can afford another funeral.
[first lines] Narrator: [with schlocky sensationalism] Zomcon presents A Bright New World. From the darkest depths of outer space came an evil no man could predict. A cloud of radiation engulfed our great planet. Scientists discovered that these space particles caused the reanimation of dead bodies. Zombies. Creature with but one destructive need, to devour the flesh of the living. And so we were forced to defend our homeland. The Zombie Wars. Mankind against legions of the undead. Narrator: But in our darkest hour, a savior. Zomcon, and our founder Dr. Hrothgar Geiger. Dr. Geiger discovered that if the brain was destroyed, the zombie was destroyed, never to reanimate. And so, the Zombie Wars were won. Zomcon built security systems like the perimeter fence that encloses our town in a wall of protective steel. And surrounds other towns right across this great land. Narrator: But even within the fence, danger lurked. Lingering radiation meant that anyone who died became a zombie. Be careful Mrs. Smith! He's not the man you married. And then a breakthrough - the domestication collar. With the collar in place, a red light comes on telling us that the zombie's desire for human flesh has been contained, making the zombie as gentle as a household pet. But if the collar light goes out, call Zomcon, or push the nearest safety button, and we'll be there to handle any zombie problem, large or small. Thanks to Zomcon we can all become productive members of society, even after we die. Or for those who can afford it, a Zomcon funeral complete with head-coffin, guarantees you a burial that you won't come back from. Narrator: Your tax dollars allow Zomcon new ways to protect our homeland from the zombie threat, giving us more time to relax and be with our families. So thank you, Zomcon, for winning the Zombie Wars, and building a company for tomorrow that gives us a safer future today. Zomcon. A better life through containment.
[last lines] Timmy Robinson: Do you want to play catch? Cindy Bottoms: Sure. Timmy Robinson: Does your, uh, zombie want to play? What do you call him, any ways. Cindy Bottoms: I don't know. Right now I'm just calling him daddy. Timmy Robinson: Sure, okay. Come on. Cindy Bottoms: Come on, daddy...