"Jim God Dammit this is Important."

      And with that single bark, I already knew today was going to be a boring one. "ya, ya, one sec boss, almost done."

     Of course Boss in his usual manner was all pissy over his little "mission parameters" hunched over looking around the broken down double door entryway into the corridor. "told ya before Jim, don't call me boss...makes me feel all uncomfortable and shit. no hurry up, and get your ass over here!"

    "and I told YOU before..on second, almost done."

"we don't have time for your Shenanigans Jim, Zed are filling the hallway and alpha team is down to nothing but baseball bats, and hammers!"

"You're too nervous boss, besides I'm done look" I take a step back to show Boss my beutiful master piece. The reanimated corpse staple its office chair, which was screwing into the flooring for good measure. he- or ITS cellphone was taped into his hand playing music, sending it into a little rage. It's grasps for Boss and I were quite amusing. "See Boss, aint' she a beaut."

"yes, yes your a modern day Picasso, Now let's get outta here before we're eatin'"

"No, no, I hate Picasso...too abstract for my taste Boss, my art is more authentic, more REAL. see look at him squirm"  I hustle over to Boss put m hand on his back and corrected his view to better marvel at my masterpiece. "It tells the magnificent tragedy of our everyday Joe who just got laid off for wasting all his time on angry birds"

"Bravo, calling bravo" Boss's radio buzzed "We're overrun, I repeat overrun, zed have taken out alpha, humanities gone mate humanitie go-"  the radio went silent and Boss frantically tried to regain contact, unfortunately his abundance of cussing didn't seem to do the trick.

I walked my way over to the window with the tortured Zed next to it...the Chicago Skyline always was beautiful, even with fire scorching it. I heard the Zed take Boss, his screams were justified I'm sure...I guess that makes me the last man alive.
     I take out Carissa's gun, and I apologize to her for never getting any of her portraits in a museum, at least they're in my heart...they have been for the last six years.  I point the gun to my head, and i pull the trigg-