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Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #1670440
A collection of various short stories and poetry.
#858664 added August 29, 2015 at 7:16pm
Restrictions: None
Bruce of the Dead
An American Actor finds himself in a Zombie Apocalypse in England.

Crossover between "My Name is Bruce" and "Shaun of the Dead". Made for Deadliest Fiction.

“Let’s see what we have here – another fan of ‘Army of Darkness’. Alright. Let’s get this signed. There you are. Thank you. Have a nice day.”

Bruce Campbell was busy autographing the various copies of DVDs and VHS tapes that were handed to him.

“Oh, a copy of ‘The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.’ – it has been a while since I’ve seen that!”

His Agent had come up with the idea – the London Tour. Thought it would be a great way to get fans interested in his newest movie – ‘Cave Alien 5’. However, Bruce hated it – the people talked funny, drove on the wrong side of the road, and measured things in those funny units. And, he Hated anything to do with the Cave Alien series – worst movies he’d ever done. There was only one good thing, well, two, actually – Mary Whitehouse was dead – that bitch had been against anything that Bruce had done – claimed it all to be too violent, unchristian, or worse, indecent. The only other good thing was that there were pubs, and the fans there tended to buy his drinks for him.

Soon enough, the Signing was done, for the day at least, and he was at one of those pubs, a place called the “Winchester”, mainly because of an 1866 “Yellow Boy” Winchester that hung on the wall. The local story was that it was used by survivors of the London Zombie Invasion, an event that occurred a few years back. If not for a certain event that had happened to him, Bruce would have brushed the whole thing off as a drunkard’s tale, or a riot. But then again, when one gets attacked by an undead creature as well, one begins to have an open mind.

Bruce contemplated this, as he downed a shot of Irish Whiskey – he would have preferred a Jack Daniels, but British pubs rarely stocked up on American booze.

“Oi! You’re that actor from the ‘Evil Dead’ series,” said the guy next to him. “My friend’s a big fan of yours.”

“What’s your friend’s name?” Bruce asked.

“Ed. Mine’s Shaun.”

“So, where is your friend?” Bruce asked.

“Locked up in a shed,” said Shaun. “He, um, got bit during the Zombie incident.”

Bruce cocked an eyebrow at this. “Freaky.”

“I suppose, but I’ve known him for like twenty years,” said Shaun. “I was going to put him out of his misery, but I couldn’t go through with it, not on top of killing my own mum and all, along with most everyone I knew, like my flatmate, the guy that ran the ice cream store, the pub owner and his wife, and a bunch of others. Decided to keep him around to play video games with.”

“I guess that’s one reason to keep him around,” said Bruce.

It was at that moment, that something hit him over the head, causing Bruce to black out.

===Battle===
Bruce Campbell x5

Shaun Riley x5

Bruce Campbell awoke with a headache. “What the hell was I drinking last night?”

“A few things of Irish whisky,” said a familiar voice. “Now, move your hand!”

“Now, why should I do that?”

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, and Bruce turned his head, to see something drop from the window. “What the hell was that?” He then turned his head to look back at his new wife. “Um, Kelly? What just happened?”

“Zombies, that’s what!” the woman said, cocking a lever-action rifle. “Now get your ass out of bed, and put some clothes on!”

“Zombies!” Bruce exclaimed, as he changed his shorts, put new, ‘’clean’’ ones on. “What in the hell do we have to fight them off with?”

“Marlin 336C Lever Action Rifle, AMT Hardballer Longslide semi-auto pistol, Guan Di’s Guando, a baseball bat, K-Bar knife, and dynamite,” came the answer from Frank, the man who owned the gun store in the town of Gold Lick.

“Mmmm, he looks good,” said Frank’s lover, a Dirt Farmer.

“Bruce, please tell us you have a plan to get us out of this mess?” Gold Lick’s Mayor asked.

Bruce blinked at this. He then looked at Kelly. “How did these people get here?”

“You had three extra tickets for your promotional tour of you latest movie, and Jeff was at collage.”

“Oh, right,” said Bruce. “First up, I need a bar of soap, and a bottle of Jack.”

“Are you going to make Molotov Cocktails with the bottle?” Frank asked.

“No, I’m going to drink it!”

“And here I thought he had a plan,” said the Dirt Farmer.

“Wait, I’ve got it!” Bruce exclaimed. “The pub! Yeah, that’s the place we need to go!”

“Are you sure?” Gold Lick’s Mayor asked.

“Of course!” Bruce exclaimed. “They’ll have plenty of Jack Daniels there!”

The Mayor groaned at this. “Not again. Now I know he’s lost it.”

“Actually, he might have a point there,” said Kelly. “A pub ‘’’has’’’ to be more defensible than this place.”

“Well, we’ve got nothing to lose, except our lives,” said Frank.

“I hope not,” said the Dirt Farmer. “The Supreme Court just passed the Same-Sex Marriage Bill.”

“Mmmm, good to know,” said Frank.



Sometime later, Bruce and his group were near a pub called The Winchester. “Well, how do you like that? With an American name like that, it has to have plenty of American booze.”

However, inside the pub, a British electronic salesman, named Shaun Riley, was arguing with the other members of his group over the Winchester Model 1866 “Yellow Boy” rifle he was holding.

“For the last time!” Shaun yelled, as he placed his finger on the trigger. “This rifle is not-“ *Ka-Boom!* A round fired from the rifle, traveling through the window, and straight into the forehead of Gold Lick’s Mayor. “Oh crap! It is real!”

B.C. x4

“I knew it!” Ed exclaimed.

“Um, you just killed that guy,” said David.

“They’re hostile!” Bruce yelled. “Attack!”

Bruce and Kelly began firing into the pub, Bruce with the Longslide, and Kelly with the Marlin,

“Christ! What’s going on?” Shaun fired back, as their group got behind the counter.

“I don’t know what’s going on with those guys out there, but it seems that the pub owner had a few things we can use,” Liz said, as she pulled out a Berretta 92 FS, a cricket bat, and a swingball pole, complete with insertion spike. “Anyone know how to load a pistol?”

“I do,” Ed said, as he loaded the gun. “All you have to do is-”

“Let me take it before you kill one of us,” Liz said. “Dianne, you get the cricket bat, and David, you get the swingball pole, use it like a spear.”

“What about me?” Ed asked.

“There’s bottles of spirits we can use,” said Shaun. “Think you can make a Molotov Cocktail or something?”

“Coming right up.”



Meanwhile, outside, Bruce looked at the other members of his group. “Kelly, get the dynamite and toss it at the wall. Frank, once the dynamite goes boom, and blows a big old hole, you and your boyfriend are to rush it with, using the baseball bat and the ninja spear thing, and try to force a way in, while me and Kelly provide support.”

The group nods at this – it wasn’t like they had any other plans made up anyways.

Kelly got some dynamite, lit the fuse, and tossed it, the dynamite exploded, leaving a nice-sized hole in the wall.

“Charge!” yelled Bruce, as Frank and the Dirt Farmer ran towards the opening.

“We need to hold them back,” Dianna said, as he picked up the cricket bat, and grabbed David, who grabbed the swingball pole.

“I’m going to hate this,” David said, as he was dragged along.

The two British citizens engaged in fierce combat with the two American rednecks, until David managed to stab Dirt Farmer in the stomach, killing him.

“I got him!” David yelled.

“NO!” bellowed Frank, as he swung his guando, taking David’s head off. He then thrust the weapon into Dianna, killing her.

“NO!” Liz yelled, as she fired her Baretta.

“Oi! Have some of this!” Ed shouted, as he tossed a Molotov cocktail at the American.

Frank screamed in pain as the volatile concoction set him on fire. He tried to roll on the ground, but it was too much.

B.C. x2

S.R. x3

“Those bastards!” Bruce exclaimed. “They’d better not have used any Jack Daniels in that cocktail!” He charged at the opening, only for a bottle to slam into his head.

“I can’t believe it!” Ed exclaimed. “It’s Bruce Campbell, star of Army of Darkness! I love that movie!”

“Was that a bottle of Jack Daniels you hit me with?” Bruce asked.

“Um, yeah, I think it was.”

“You bastard!” Bruce pulled out a KA-Bar Knife, and stabbed Ed with it. “How dare you ruin a good bottle of Jack!”

S.R. x2

“ED! NO!”

Bruce looked inside the pub, and saw two people in it, one armed with a lever action rifle, the other armed with a pistol, and both had their weapons pointed right at him. “Oh crap!” He got back outside, as gunfire erupted behind him.

Kelly got up alongside of him. “How many are left?” She asked, handing him the Longslide.

“Just two,” said Bruce.

“Wait until I say go.”

There was soon a lull in the gunfire.

“Now!”

The two Americans leapt into the opening, and fired. Soon, the two British people were dead.

S.R. x0

B.C. x2

“How do you like that?” Bruce shouted.

“Bruce, we’ve got another problem,” said Kelly.

“What?”

“Look!”

Bruce turned around, and saw the horde of zombies that had been watching the fight. “Oh crap!”

The zombies then rushed them.

“This is worse than my first marriage!”

=== Epilogue ===

However, just before the creatures bit him, Bruce’s eyes jerked open. “Where the hell am I?”

“I believe Americans call it Jail,” said a familiar sounding voice. “It’s the place people go to when they get involved in a drunken brawl.”

Bruce looked, and managed to identify the guy as the fella he’d shared a few drinks with. “Shaun?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you hit me?” Bruce asked.

“Actually, that would be the guy with red eyes and a white beard.”

Bruce turned his head, and found himself looking at Guan Di, the Chinese God of War, and Bean Curd.

“Wǒ gěi nǐ shénme, nǐ duì wǒ zuò de! Ér nǐ de diànyǐng xī! (I'll get you for what you did to me! And your movies suck!)”

“Do you know that guy?” Shaun asked.

“Sort of,” said Bruce. He then looked at Guan Di. “What part of 500 feet don’t you understand? You’re not supposed to be stalking me.”

“Wǒ gěi nǐ ná! (I’ll get you!)”

Bruce then looked at Shaun. “Say, when they let us out, how about I buy you a beer?”

“That would be good.”
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