Zombie Boobies lay curled up in her nest, a hundred feet above the ground. As you probably know, South Africans do not live in houses. Every day at dusk they construct a nest in the treetops where they can spend the night safe from predators.
This was an important day for Zombie. She had a math test at the school she attended. If she passed it she would get to go to Johannesburg to compete in a mathematics competition called the Putnam Exam.
So excited was Zombie about the chance of going to Johannesburg that she did not even watch what she was doing when she grabbed some plants to wrap around her waist to cover her genitalia. She quickly clambered down to the ground and began searching for some mangoes to eat for her breakfast.
She wanted to be sure she had a full stomach, for this was to be a difficult test, including numbers as high as thirty or even forty. Zombie had only just barely passed the last test, having to use both her fingers AND her toes to do the sums. But she only had twenty digits – she'd counted them – and wasn't sure how to do this advanced math.
Zombie hadn't found any mangoes yet when she realized that something was very, very wrong. Her ass itched! She couldn't stop scratching it.
“Oh my God!” Zombie wailed, whipping off the plants she wore to cover her genitalia, “poison ivy!”
“Oh no!” Zombie moaned as she watched her ass turn bright red, “I look like a baboon in heat!”
Zombie wasn't the only one who noticed.
“Yip! Yip! Yip!” screeched a male baboon sitting in a nearby tree, stroking his foot-long dong.
Soon a whole troop of baboons had joined him, all with MASSIVE hard-ons. They clambered down from their tree and ran after the pretty blonde.
Zombie ran as fast as she could, her bright red ass bobbing through the bushes like a flag. With a whole troop of horny baboons after her, she sprinted at top speed, hardly looking where she was going. She ran right out of the forest and into a clearing.
But there was no time to stop. Running light on her toes, being careful not to step on any of the big cats, Zombie ran right through the sleeping pride of lions.
“Excuse me,” Zombie said, “don't mind me, just passing through.”
The baboons, so intent on you-know-what, did not even hesitate. They ran headlong into the lions. A great battle ensued in which many baboons were killed and eaten. Zombie kept running, not stopping until she was far, far away.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Zombie moaned as she sat in a puddle with her legs wide apart and wiggled her bottom into the mud, “My ass itches!”
Now she was going to be late for her math test. And she hadn't even gotten to eat breakfast!
Her math teacher, a big orange orangutan, was pacing back and forth in front of the chalk board when Zombie arrived.
“Miss Boobies,” he sneered, “So glad you could make it.”
“Oh, what am I going to do?” Zombie thought, “I don't know how to calculate sums over twenty!”
“I know,” she concluded, “I'll sit behind one of the gorillas. They always get A's.”
Zombie craned her neck, trying to read the answers off the gorilla's test sheet. Lifting her red ass off the chair, she stretched her neck to see over his hairy shoulder.
“MISS BOOBIES!!!” the math teacher shouted, bouncing a chalk eraser off her forehead, “Are you looking at the answers of the gorilla seated in front of you?”
“But I can't help it,” Zombie explained, “I'm blonde!”
“Oh, oh, oh,” Zombie moaned as she sat in the corner scratching herself between the legs, a dunce cap wedged over her pretty blond hair, “I'm going to fail the math test... and my ass itches.”
Finally the bell rang and Zombie shuffled out of class behind the other students, her head hung low in shame.
“Miss Boobies! I need to see you after class,” her math teacher snapped, just as she thought she'd managed to sneak out undetected.
“As you know, this school is dedicated to diversity. We have to abide by the constricts of affirmative action. In light of our commitment to multi-culturalism, we just cannot send an all-gorilla team of scholars to the Putnam Exam. So... you're our token human.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Zombie squealed, jumping up and down with excitement, which made her boobs bounce, “I get to go to Johannesburg? I promise I'll do my very best in the contest!”
“I'm sure you will,” said the big orangutan, shaking his head sadly, “But maybe we'll win anyway.”
“And you'll need clothes,” he added, eying her red ass, “city girls do not go about naked.”
“What's this?” asked Zombie, selecting a garment from the box of cast-off clothes.
“It's called a bra.”
“Is this how I wear it?” asked Zombie, winding the bra around her head like a turban.
“No, no,” her teacher explained, “it's for holding your boobies up.”
“What does DDD mean?” asked Zombie, pointing to the label.
“D is the next letter in the alphabet,” the orangutan explained, “I know you've only studied A, B and C so far. But don't worry about that. The Putnam Exam is just about mathematics. No reading or writing.”
Zombie had never been more excited than when she queued up to board the big, zebra-striped bus. Except at a distance, she had never seen a motorcar before. And she looked so cute in her new clothes! If it weren't for the fact that she had her hand down the front of her pants, vigorously scratching herself, she would have looked just like a city girl.
“What's that?” asked Zombie, pointing to what appeared to be a mountain suspended in mid-air over Johannesburg.
But the chimpanzee seated next to her just laughed and squeezed her titty.
“That's an alien spacecraft,” explained the gorilla whom Zombie had cheated off of, “The prawns arrived a year ago and have been living in a slum called District 9 ever since. But rumor has it that the Prawn King has recently arrived in a space capsule and is stirring up trouble.”
“What's a slum?”
“It's like the jungle, only more crowded.”
Zombie Boobies found a seat in the big lecture hall and stared in amazement at the other human girls. They were dressed just like her. They even wore bras! It was the proudest moment in her life.
“Prove that for every positive integer n there exists an n-digit number divisible by 5^n all of whose digits are odd.”
Zombie just stared at the first question on the Putnam Exam. She had absolutely NO idea what they were talking about. What was she going to do? Her math teacher would beat her red ass raw if she turned in a blank exam paper.
BLAM!!! BLAM!!! BLAM!!!
Explosions rocked the lecture hall. One wall caved in. In a panic, the young mathematicians scrambled for the door. There was pandemonium outside. Soldiers ran past with rifles and grenade launchers. Helicopters hovered overhead, raining spent cartridge cases on the student's heads as the gunners fired their weapons into District 9.
Zombie Boobies ran in a panic towards the big zebra-striped bus and clambered aboard. ZAP! The bus driver disappeared in a pink mist. The aliens had got him! Zombie looked around the bus at the wide-eyed faces of her forest friends. Even the big gorilla, normally so confident, sat paralyzed with fear.
“Well, somebody's got to take the lead,” thought Zombie, as she sprinted to the front of the bus and squeezed her big boobs in behind the steering wheel.
BLAM!!! BLAM!!! BLAM!!! There were explosions all around the bus.
Zombie studied the dash board. “P R N D 2 1,” it read.
“Oh! Oh! I know what one of those letters means!” Zombie exulted, “DDD, that's for me!”
Zombie pulled the lever until the little red arrow was pointing at the letter D. Then she stepped on the flat metal thing protruding from the floorboard.
In a spray of gravel, the bus lurched forward, panicked primate faces pressed against every window.
Keeping her foot pressed to the floorboard, Zombie drove straight into District 9. Careening through the alien slum, she zig-zagged between the larger buildings and flattened the mud and straw huts that crowded the alleyways. Prawns leaped out of the way of the zebra-striped bus. They'd never seen such an aggressive human!
The Prawn King stood on a hilltop, directing his troops. He'd taken every eventuality into consideration. Infantry? No problem. Gunships? Got them covered. Artillery? No worries.
But he wasn't expecting the humans to charge him in a zebra-striped bus.
“Get her! Get her!” he shouted, “Oh, do something! Somebody stop her!”
But it was too late. In a splattering of icky yellow bug juice, the Prawn King was killed. Zombie bounced over the alien's broken body, never taking her foot off the flat metal thing on the floorboard. It was like stepping on a cockroach – a really, really BIG cockroach.
When the prawns saw that their king was dead, they laid down their weapons and surrendered. It was all over. South Africa had been saved from alien occupation!
The president of South Africa declared Zombie Boobies to be a national heroine. He decreed that a new holiday would be celebrated every year in honor of the girl who had saved South Africa and, indeed, the whole world from the prawns.
Zombie was invited to a state dinner held in her honor at the presidential palace. The president promised that she would be afforded every educational opportunity. A full scholarship to the University of Johannesburg!
“You will study alongside other boys and girls the same age as you.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Zombie, wiping her brow, “As long as there's no gorillas I should do okay.”