Zombie Policies

Hear, hear. It's about time we talked about the real issues.

Nearly one whole week has passed and I have yet to hear a single candidate from any party say word one about the pressing, clawing, biting issue of the Undead.

Thirty-four billion dollars, in tax cuts Prime Minister?

I call that bull talk from a one-eyed fat man! That's money could-a been much better spent on bite resistant Kevlar body armour for our brave troops on the front line of the undeclared war against the walking dead.

Fridge magnets and national security hotlines? Bah! I ask you instead, where is my $100,000 tax-free grant for zombie-proofing the chateau? That moat's not going to dig itself, Johnny. And your gun laws don't make home defence against ol' Zed any easier you know. My Playboy bunnies do what they can but they're only human, while the moaning, brain-chewing fiends scratching at the door are most definitely inhuman and even with the new, much more flexible workplace agreements I've negotiated with the girls, we just don't have the resources to provide 24/7 cover for the grotto, the hot tub, the volleyball court and the mansion.