Say, who’s that returning home in the dead of night, stinking of piss and dead ginger twat? It’s Hot Jem the tard, fresh from dropping gingers like McVitie’s. With the presence of mind you expect from a 19-year-old still doing their GCSEs she puts the murder weapon in her bedroom drawer. She confesses all to Maxine the black racist who can scarcely contain her glee at the prospect of a dead gonk in the woods to fap over. She frog marches Jem to the scene of the crime but if it’s cold dead schoolboy they are after they are sorely disappointed. Gary has already torched the body leaving nothing but the stench of warm ground ginger in the air. They agree it’s best to keep this one on the DL.
Over in gen pop PDS sufferer Freddie Preston is back staying with his ex-wife Haley. Happy ending to an undead love story? Not quite. Haley’s cohabiting with her new borefriend Amir and triangular tension they got it. Freddie woos Hayley by turning up to work on her birthday in a Ford Capri. It’s a strong minded girl who isn’t impressed by that but she eventually friendzones him only to end up locked in the garage with him as he turns rabid. Fortunately Gary is on hand to plug him in the leg and throw him on the cart for assimilation training. Freddie will be shovelling shit and salt in the gulags in no time. Gary later gets a make out with Hot Jem the tard so a pretty good week for him all told.
Having somewhat less of a ball are Kieren and Hymen, working together at the GPs shifting their zombies around and Uncle Tomming like a pair of bastards. The Government’s New Deal for the PDS massive where they fuck them at every opportunity is royally getting Kieren’s goat. He’s also not happy that Gay Hymen is leading Nausey Amy up the garden path with his feeble attempts at heterosexuality. So furious in fact that he that he leaps on Hymen and tongues him down like his life depends on it. Yeah, that’ll teach him.
That council cocksucker is still trying to get into Nausey Amy’s bodycon drawers. Now you know we’re in the horror genre.
The verdict: Death is untrue, I’m merely sleeping.
Marks out of 10: 7