#ZombieNation One-off.
I want to RP more, but this Twitlonger has nothing whatsoever to do with any RPs I partake in.

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Bang. Bang. Moan. Bang.

Moan. Bang.

Bang bang.

Mooaaaaaan.

Bang.

It's safe to say, that whoever was at the door of 33a Peckender Street wasn't one to be bothered to work handles. I mean, most of the things surrounding Dirk Gently weren't things that worked perfectly, but even after a little bit of coaxing, the door handle opened for most clients.

Bang bang moan bang.

'Oh, for Gods' sakes,' Dirk thought, pulling himself away from his position hunched over the desk to the dank stairs. "Use the handle!" And with that, he retreated to his solitary life looking over the bills. Dirk'd spent his entire life running from them. Only now had he made the life-changing decision to actually open one of the warning letters the government had sent to him in vain countless times.

Perhaps that was the tax man at the door. Certainly seemed idiotic enough to be. Maybe, just maybe, if Dirk opened the door for him, he might get off with only seven broken fingers.

Begrudgingly, Dirk clambered down the stairs, taking a moment to straighten his already straight tie. He did that to comfort himself subconsciously. Believe it or not, there's a reason behind every one of Dirk's actions. The Universe can be peculiar, but it has a reason for making things turn out the way they turn out. Dirk was a holistic detective, and this was practically his core belief. The fundamental interconnectedness of all things. It had helped him to locate missing felines, break up messy divorces, capture murderers, find software prototypes, save clients and create something new.

What it hadn't helped him to do was pay the bills.

Which was why he was opening the door. For the tax man.

Dirk reached out, placing a lonely hand on the cool metal of the handle and swinging the door open far and wide.

"Hello there, sir! How may I be of assista-..." Dirk instantly trailed off, as he was greeted by the not-so-grateful sight of a lathering, pulsating mess of what couldn't possibly be passed off as human.

Dirk considered this, and after plotting and triangulating all the known vectors and possibilities of what could occur after opening one's door to lay eyes on such a monstrosity, his conclusion was obvious.

Close the door.

He did so.

"Right..." Dirk spoke aloud as he thought on what he had just saw. People would say that such a thing as zombies is impossible, but, as Dirk always said, there is no point in using the word impossible to describe something that has quite clearly happened.

...

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