"Alright, Ed!" Ben shouted, his jaw hanging slightly askew. He looked over at his companion, a fellow contestant who was currently missing both an arm and a sense of self-preservation. "On three, we jump. Try not to get turned into confetti this time." Ed gave a thumbs-up with his remaining hand. They sprinted.
The crowd went wild. The trophy was hideous, the prize money was probably counterfeit, and Ben was currently a 1:1 scale model of a bowling ball. But as the cameras zoomed in on his decaying, winking eye, one thing was clear: it was a hell of a party. Ben and Ed Blood Party
Metal screeched. Sparks flew. And a single, solitary zombie head tumbled out the other side, rolling across the finish line with a wet thud . "Alright, Ed