WTF

Yo, everyone.

"This morning I was just engaging in unprotected coitus with a random woman that I picked up in a bar after snorting cocaine for 2 hours and... clubbing and listening to dance music (which I totally like). It was getting really hot and everything and we were really into it, but then SUDDENLY, she just stopped. I was like "Wtf!?".
She didn't respond. Suddenly I realized... she's dead. Probably overdosed on one of the many drugs we had the night before. This was not good. Not good at all. Scenes from Pulp Fiction rushed through my mind. I remembered that when a person is suffering from an overdose you have to stick a huge needle into their chest. I quickly went over to my syringe cabinet (I have one of those), and took the largest one I could find. I went back to her and stabbed her right in the heart. Nothing happened (later I learned that you actually have to inject adrenaline, it turns out that an empty syringe doesn't work).
At this point I was really panicking, cause she was the only one that knew the code from this soda contest we were in. They give you this code and you have to bring it to a shop or something and you get free PensaCola Orange Juice. I didn't know the code, and the only one that knew it was dead (or dying).
I remembered a documentary I saw earlier that said that scientists have proven that memories could possibly be extracted in the future from a human brain, before it starts to decay. I wasn't sure if she was technically dead yet, but I couldn't take any chances. I HAD to find a brain-reading device as soon as possible. I looked all over the house but couldn't find one. I was in a genuine PensaCola crisis. There was only one solution left:

Go into the future and find a brain-reading device. But where to find a time machine? Things were looking pretty grim... so I had to resort to prayer. I sat beside her, and began to ask the Lord to give me a time machine. It was the last he (or she?) could do. I assumed God Almighty knows how to put together this advanced piece of technology capable of bending time.

Nothing happened. This poor woman was dying there, taking my only hope for Pensacola Orange Juice with her. To this day, I stand by my belief that PensaCola & Co never expected this to happen when they started the contest. They never expected the one and only code they issued to die with a random bar hooker.

There was nothing I could do. It was over. The least I could do was call PensaCola & Co and inform them about the tragedy. I did just that.

On my way to the phone, suddenly I heard some kind of moaning noise. I turned around, and, to my horror, the woman was now a ZOMBIE. And the slow, cheesy ones from Dawn of The Dead, but the totally awesome fast ones from 28 Days Later. And she was totally pissed cause she forgot the code. After finishing screaming, I picked up the shotgun that I kept under my coffin cupboard, just for situations like these, and shot her right in the head. She kept going! There was only one solution left: my favorite wrestling move, the Cunt Punt. I had heard of this ancient martial arts technique from the great Maddox, and others, and now was the time to apply it. With the speed of the tiger, I came onto her and cuntpunted her right in the kisser. Yes. For some reason she now had a vulva for a head. Weird, I know, but hey, it's not weirder than zombies right? The move worked perfectly. The beast fell to the ground, finally resting in peace. I could sense that the girl that once inhabited that cursed body was thanking me from a better place.

Then I went to the market and bought apples."

How's that for my fiction homework assignment? I bet the teacher will just love it.