Morning Spam

[Undiscussed Groomed for Male Slavery, One Victim of Many]

Ode To Being Confused

Scene: City streets outside central offices of Well-Respected Psionic
Weaponry Corp. Many cars and onlookers, but this stretch has been
cordoned off to honor a permit for a parade.

The tune starts off similar to When The Saints Go Marching.

Crowd of Zombies [all together, exuberantly, groaning]: "Oh, when
we're confused!"

Crowd of Cyborgs [all together, exuberatly, synthetic]: "When we're confused!"

A crowd of mutilated experimentees, many children, join in.

All Three Groups: "When we're confused we don't hurt Boss ..." [gets
breathy, as if whispering, but still loud] "(or at least his profit)"

Crowd of Zombies and Crowd of Cyborgs [well-rehearsed]: "When we're
confused we don't hurt Boss's profit!"

Lone Zombie: "Or so he thinks!"