[A mostly naked zombie shambles up to a podium made of smashed barricades alongside the bronze statue of Petrosjko outside of Moggridge Place Police Department, birthplace of the Ridleybank Resistance Front. He is wearing stained, torn pants and a black ushanka.]
Hello, I am Gur’mrgle. I will introduce myself to those who came after my time in the streets. I am the former Overseer of Ridleybank, left Boot of the famed Beuxdeigh (or Beau-baby as I refer to him) and resident paradeadic for St. Luke’s Hospital and Cafeteria. In part of this, I have been asked to laud a notable member of the Resistance Front, one who gave much to the cause and asked for little in return but for praise and mild gratitude.
I have been asked to praise Dangermouse.
Now, some would say “Why Dangermouse?” Others would reply, “It was Dangermouse! The ‘mouse! If Grim was the 2x4, and Petro the hand that wielded it, ‘mouse was the happy-face drawn on the front!” A quintessential stiff with a permanent rigour mortis smile.
I say bollocks. He’s gone and planked himself, left to join the rest of those namby-pamby Nexuswar addicts over on that hump Jorm’s server…and I say good riddance, the free-loading bastard, he beat us all to life with that MSPaint obsession of his.
I say this because I think Dangermouse would have smiled. Like other famous dead British comedians, Dangermouse had a quirky sense of humour that often went far down the path of good-taste and wandered deeply into the crypts of “the hell?” As I started to write this speech, I thought of fond memories of Dangermouse and his odd sense of humour, and thus I think he would have taken this chance to both shock and amuse you. Anything but mindless survivor humour for our man, ‘mouse, and so I would like to be the first zombie to say the word “FUCK” in a public laudatory speech of a Frontsman.
Many of you younglings would not remember Dangermouse, but his effect on the horde is still seen today. Dangermouse was our original journalist-cum-muckraker, propagandist and all-around awesome zombie. Here we have a zombie of the old ways, calm and skilled. Doing a job that requires brains that aren’t too ripe or squishy, and hands that tremble only lightly (how else to explain his facility with the MSPaint and other ‘shop programs on that beat-up laptop of his?) Quiet, unassuming, yet confident and caring. He was one part cheerleader and one part spokestiff. He never pushed his way to the front, rather just got on with the day-to-day needs of the Horde’s insaitable needs for propaganda and news. Consider that he gave us classics like:
or
or
…and you can see the thoughtfulness, kindness and charity he had in reaching a withered claw out to the huddled, starving and breathing masses.
He was a journalist, famed for his pro-zambah stance and his introspective articles into the nature of the trenchcoater and why survivors seem to insist on retaining the ability to breathe. The Malton Sun & Herald, verily something that was in part founded by the ‘mouse, was lucky to have his regular input in their columns.
Not merely a journalist, he was a philzombopist and a community leader as well. He helped lay in the groundwork for our infamous Olympiad:
…and the first Barharhville elections, where he served as impartial muckraker for just about everyone:
Most importantly, he made us laugh.
During the darkest days in the past, when drama was rife, zerging seemed common, barricade bots seemingly standard issue and every second suggested change was a fully automatic weapon of somesort (if it wasn’t an armoured vehicle), when it just didn’t seem worth cracking a skull (or loading a browser), he could make us smile. Humour, that great gift to zombiekind, Dangermouse ladled laughter about freely:
I hope this dedication helps to remind those that have gone before as to what a force for zombiekind can be had from a hand that can still click a computer mouse, and as an inspiriation to those that have come since Dangermouse that there are many paths in the Front; some flare brightly in the dark, burning their way through Papahood in a year or so, others illuminate our paths for years to come.
Dangermouse still shows us the way for us in Malton. To keep tearing down those barricades, to keep cracking skulls and to above all, to keep it fun and irreverent.
Thank you.
