THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES chapter 10 Extreme Couponing (With A Chance of Death by Soup Can)

December 9, 2025

Here is Chapter 10, the profile of the undead shopkeeper, and the tactical map of the neighborhood.

THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES

Post Title: Extreme Couponing (With A Chance of Death by Soup Can)

Date: Wednesday Morning (Still Day 1, feels like Year 10)

Mood: Tense, heavily armored with fashion magazines, and desperate for caffeine.

Current Status: Catching my breath in the lobby after the world's worst shopping trip.

We looked ridiculous. We looked like survivalists designing costumes for a high school play.

Brenda had taped thick issues of Vogue and Architectural Digest around her forearms using blue painter's tape. "High-density glossy paper offers moderate bite protection against casual gnawing," she explained.

I had taped a spatula to my belt. Dave was wearing a bicycle helmet he found in the hallway and clutching his "Peacemaker" Nerf gun like it was a holy relic.

"The mission is simple," Brenda whispered, peering out the cracked lobby door of The Regal Arms. "Ingress to Sal's Bodega on the corner. Acquire target items: Water filters, batteries, canned protein, and..." she sighed, "...coffee. Egress immediately. No browsing."

The Street

Stepping outside was the hardest part. The air smelled like smoke and rot. The silence was broken only by the distant, wet shuffling of Zom Zoms who had lost their way.

We stuck to the building walls. Brenda led, holding her mechanical keyboard shield. I followed, clutching my stick. Dave brought up the rear, vibrating with fear.

We passed the Yoga studio. The Zom Zoms inside were still holding that Downward Dog pose. It was deeply unsettling.

"Their core strength must be incredible," Dave whispered nervously.

"Eyes forward, David," Brenda snapped.

We made it to the corner. Sal's Bodega. The neon "OPEN" sign flickering weakly. The front window was smashed, jagged glass hanging like teeth.

Cleanup in Aisle 3

We stepped over the broken glass. The store was dark, smelling of spilled beer and spoiled milk. The shelves near the front were looted bare—the chips and candy were gone. But the back aisles... the boring aisles with the canned beans and cleaning supplies... they were untouched.

"Jackpot," I whispered, heading for the coffee aisle.

Brenda went for the batteries behind the counter. Dave stood guard by a display of lukewarm energy drinks.

I was shoveling bags of "Hazelnut Creme" coffee into my backpack when I heard a low growl from behind the deli counter.

It wasn't the usual Zom Zom chewing noise. It was a territorial, guttural gurgle that sounded strangely like, "Nyyyyyyoooooo cash."

A figure stood up from behind the meat slicer. It was Sal.

Sal was—had been—a nice guy who always let me owe him a quarter. Now, his apron was stained dark red, one eye was missing, and he looked furious that we were touching the merchandise.

The projectile phase

"Sal!" I yelled, stupidly. "I have cash! I can pay!"

Sal responded by grabbing the nearest heavy object—a can of Campbell’s Chunky Soup—and hurling it with MLB-level velocity.

WHIZZZZ—CLANG!

The can whipped past my ear and dented a metal shelving unit.

"Contact front!" Brenda yelled, ducking behind an endcap of paper towels.

Sal was a machine. He grabbed cans—corn, beans, Spam—and started chucking them wildly. It was an artillery barrage of non-perishables.

A can of peaches hit Dave square in the chest. He yelped and fell into the energy drink display, sending cans rolling everywhere with a deafening clatter.

"The noise! You're drawing them!" Brenda hissed.

Sal roared and wound up for another throw. Brenda popped up from behind the paper towels. She raised her mechanical keyboard like Captain America's shield.

THWACK.

A can of cream of mushroom soup deflected off the keyboard. Keys flew everywhere.

"Retreat!" Brenda commanded. "We have the package! Move! Move!"

I grabbed Dave by the back of his hoodie and dragged him up. We scrambled over the broken glass, slipping on rolling energy drink cans, as Sal pelted our retreating backs with discount tuna fish.

We ran back to The Regal Arms, slammed the lobby door, and collapsed.

We got the coffee. We got the batteries. Dave got a bruise shaped like a peach can.

And I think Sal banned us for life.

COMBAT PROFILE: SAL THE BODEGA ZOM ZOM

Classification: Merchant-Class Ghoul / Territorial Defender

Location: Sal’s Corner Market (Behind the counter, usually).

BEHAVIOR:

Sal does not wander. He guards the shop. He seems to retain a muscle memory for "protecting the inventory" from shoplifters, despite the fact that money is now useless.

ATTACK METHOD: "The Chunky Barrage"

Sal does not bite immediately. He prefers ranged combat. He will grab anything heavy and throwable—canned goods, glass jars, stale baguettes—and launch them with alarming speed.

STRENGTHS:

Accuracy: Surprisingly good aim with a can of Goya beans.
Home Field Advantage: He knows where the heavy stuff is stocked.
Rage: Seems genuinely offended by looting.

WEAKNESSES:

Stationary: He hates leaving the area behind the counter.
Distraction: If you throw money on the floor, he might pause for 1.5 seconds to look at it confusedly.
Limited Ammo: Eventually, he will run out of soup cans near the register.

NEIGHBORHOOD TACTICAL MAP: OPERATION COFFEE RUN

Brenda drew this up post-mission to analyze our performance. It’s terrifyingly neat.

      [ N ]
        |
[ W ]----[ E ]  <- Compass Rose (Brenda insisted)
      |
      [ S ]

=============================================================
MAIN STREET (BROADWAY) - [DANGER ZONE - HIGH ZOM ACTIVITY]
(Burning Cars, The Shopping Cart Blockade, The Main Horde)
=============================================================
      |      |      |      |
      |  (A) |      |  (B) |
      |      |      |      |
------+------+------+------+------ [ALLEYWAY - "SAFE" PATH] --
      |      |      |      |
[HOME]|->->->|->->->|->(C) |
[BASE]|<-<-<-|<-<-<-|<-<-<-|
      |      |      |      |
---------------------------------- [SIDE STREET - Elm St.] --

**LEGEND:**

[HOME BASE] = The Regal Arms Apartments (Apt 3B). Our fortress.

(A) = The Yoga Studio. Contains the "Stretchy Zoms." Do not tap on glass.

(B) = The Apple Store. Untouched. Too bright. Avoid.

(C) = SAL'S BODEGA (Target Location). Contains Sal and flying soup.

->->-> = Ingress Route (Hugging the walls, moving fast).
<-<-<- = Egress Route (Running away while dodging canned goods).

Status Update: We are back in 3B. I am boiling tap water on a camping stove Brenda had in her closet. It is taking forever.

The smell of coffee is about to fill the apartment. I might cry.

But outside... the noise Dave made at the store definitely drew attention. The shuffling sounds below our window are getting louder.

Back to blog

Here is Chapter 10, the profile of the undead shopkeeper, and the tactical map of the neighborhood.

THE ZOM ZOM CHRONICLES

Post Title: Extreme Couponing (With A Chance of Death by Soup Can)

Date: Wednesday Morning (Still Day 1, feels like Year 10)

Mood: Tense, heavily armored with fashion magazines, and desperate for caffeine.

Current Status: Catching my breath in the lobby after the world's worst shopping trip.

We looked ridiculous. We looked like survivalists designing costumes for a high school play.

Brenda had taped thick issues of Vogue and Architectural Digest around her forearms using blue painter's tape. "High-density glossy paper offers moderate bite protection against casual gnawing," she explained.

I had taped a spatula to my belt. Dave was wearing a bicycle helmet he found in the hallway and clutching his "Peacemaker" Nerf gun like it was a holy relic.

"The mission is simple," Brenda whispered, peering out the cracked lobby door of The Regal Arms. "Ingress to Sal's Bodega on the corner. Acquire target items: Water filters, batteries, canned protein, and..." she sighed, "...coffee. Egress immediately. No browsing."

The Street

Stepping outside was the hardest part. The air smelled like smoke and rot. The silence was broken only by the distant, wet shuffling of Zom Zoms who had lost their way.

We stuck to the building walls. Brenda led, holding her mechanical keyboard shield. I followed, clutching my stick. Dave brought up the rear, vibrating with fear.

We passed the Yoga studio. The Zom Zoms inside were still holding that Downward Dog pose. It was deeply unsettling.

"Their core strength must be incredible," Dave whispered nervously.

"Eyes forward, David," Brenda snapped.

We made it to the corner. Sal's Bodega. The neon "OPEN" sign flickering weakly. The front window was smashed, jagged glass hanging like teeth.

Cleanup in Aisle 3

We stepped over the broken glass. The store was dark, smelling of spilled beer and spoiled milk. The shelves near the front were looted bare—the chips and candy were gone. But the back aisles... the boring aisles with the canned beans and cleaning supplies... they were untouched.

"Jackpot," I whispered, heading for the coffee aisle.

Brenda went for the batteries behind the counter. Dave stood guard by a display of lukewarm energy drinks.

I was shoveling bags of "Hazelnut Creme" coffee into my backpack when I heard a low growl from behind the deli counter.

It wasn't the usual Zom Zom chewing noise. It was a territorial, guttural gurgle that sounded strangely like, "Nyyyyyyoooooo cash."

A figure stood up from behind the meat slicer. It was Sal.

Sal was—had been—a nice guy who always let me owe him a quarter. Now, his apron was stained dark red, one eye was missing, and he looked furious that we were touching the merchandise.

The projectile phase

"Sal!" I yelled, stupidly. "I have cash! I can pay!"

Sal responded by grabbing the nearest heavy object—a can of Campbell’s Chunky Soup—and hurling it with MLB-level velocity.

WHIZZZZ—CLANG!

The can whipped past my ear and dented a metal shelving unit.

"Contact front!" Brenda yelled, ducking behind an endcap of paper towels.

Sal was a machine. He grabbed cans—corn, beans, Spam—and started chucking them wildly. It was an artillery barrage of non-perishables.

A can of peaches hit Dave square in the chest. He yelped and fell into the energy drink display, sending cans rolling everywhere with a deafening clatter.

"The noise! You're drawing them!" Brenda hissed.

Sal roared and wound up for another throw. Brenda popped up from behind the paper towels. She raised her mechanical keyboard like Captain America's shield.

THWACK.

A can of cream of mushroom soup deflected off the keyboard. Keys flew everywhere.

"Retreat!" Brenda commanded. "We have the package! Move! Move!"

I grabbed Dave by the back of his hoodie and dragged him up. We scrambled over the broken glass, slipping on rolling energy drink cans, as Sal pelted our retreating backs with discount tuna fish.

We ran back to The Regal Arms, slammed the lobby door, and collapsed.

We got the coffee. We got the batteries. Dave got a bruise shaped like a peach can.

And I think Sal banned us for life.

COMBAT PROFILE: SAL THE BODEGA ZOM ZOM

Classification: Merchant-Class Ghoul / Territorial Defender

Location: Sal’s Corner Market (Behind the counter, usually).

BEHAVIOR:

Sal does not wander. He guards the shop. He seems to retain a muscle memory for "protecting the inventory" from shoplifters, despite the fact that money is now useless.

ATTACK METHOD: "The Chunky Barrage"

Sal does not bite immediately. He prefers ranged combat. He will grab anything heavy and throwable—canned goods, glass jars, stale baguettes—and launch them with alarming speed.

STRENGTHS:

Accuracy: Surprisingly good aim with a can of Goya beans.

Home Field Advantage: He knows where the heavy stuff is stocked.

Rage: Seems genuinely offended by looting.

WEAKNESSES:

Stationary: He hates leaving the area behind the counter.

Distraction: If you throw money on the floor, he might pause for 1.5 seconds to look at it confusedly.

Limited Ammo: Eventually, he will run out of soup cans near the register.

NEIGHBORHOOD TACTICAL MAP: OPERATION COFFEE RUN

Brenda drew this up post-mission to analyze our performance. It’s terrifyingly neat.

Status Update: We are back in 3B. I am boiling tap water on a camping stove Brenda had in her closet. It is taking forever.

The smell of coffee is about to fill the apartment. I might cry.

But outside... the noise Dave made at the store definitely drew attention. The shuffling sounds below our window are getting louder.