Broadcast Tape Archive/January, 2011/RZFD 322/Full Transcript:
Hey there, living listeners. It’s Big Dave here, broadcasting live from the fortress of ass-kickery at Radio Zombie Free Denver. Yeah, I know I’ve been off the air for a while, and I bet some of you faithless heathens probably thought the zombies lunched up on me, but I’m back, kicking out the tunes, anti-zombie rhetoric, and inane observations at a newly-beefy one hundred thousand watts of AM fury. I’m on AM bands 800 and 1320, FM 99.5, and Short Wave One where the BBC used to live.
Yep, as you may have guessed from the above statement, Big Dave got the coal-fired gennie station up and smoking, and he’s using most of that sweet, sweet alternating current to bring the news of hope to your ears.
Remember, it’s our solemn duty to whip all the undead ass we can manage, while still keeping safe the holy skin of our backsides. Whether you believe, like I do, that it was some government experiment gone all fuck-nuts wrong, or if it was divine vengeance, or a friggin’ comet hitting Timbuck-three, what we’ve got is an overabundance of empty-eyed corpse-gnawers wandering around.
Are we going to go tits-up and let ’em ruin us for good? Uh-uh. We’re going to arm up, lock and load, and make sure that the few of us who still remember how it was before the flashover don’t watch the last vertical horizon go dark beneath the pile of chilly zombie flesh.
Now, you say, “Big Dave, you make it seem like it’s so easy. We’ve been tryin’, and they got us outnumbered a hundred to one.”
Hey, man. I know. I feel your pain. If some of my on-air cues ain’t up to their previous smoothness, it’s because I only got seven fingers collectively, two of which are still pretty swollen up and useless. Now, I ain’t asking for sympathy. I know many of you out there in zombie land have it worse than me. I’m just saying that, despite my stature as the first, maybe only post-apocalypse radio star, I’ve had to knuckle up and do my share of shouting, scrambling, screaming, and zombie hacking.
I’ve got more than a little of it on video, but alas, Big Dave’s technical credentials don’t stretch so far as to allow him to get a local TV station back on the air. If someone finds their way to the RZFD premises, however, I will be glad to share the humorous clips of zombies encountering my newly-crafted electric fence for the first time. I tell you, even on a bad day, watching eyeballs pop out of skulls and hair burst into flames puts a smile on a live-earther’s face.
Anyway, that’s enough blabbing for now. I’m going to spin some tunes for y’all for the next hour, non-stop, commercial free, unedited, and generally aggressive as I am without my morning tequila. This is “Kill ‘Em All” by Metallica—the old version with “Blitzkrieg” still on there—’cause…well, shit, because that’s our holy order of ass-kickery, ain’t it?
Like I always say, glad to be here, good to still be alive.
<The above-mentioned music CD plays, uninterrupted and in its entirety. After the music stops, the radio is silent for approximately two hours and thirty minutes.>
(Slurring his words somewhat, Big Dave returns.)
Live-earthers…(throat sounds) Big Dave apologizes for the interruption of service just then. Just…just when we was getting back up and running, huh? Anyway, I’m gonna play “Rust in Peace” by Megadeth, cause it was always one of my favorites, and I gotta collect my thoughts.
What I…what I mean to say is…some heavy shit came down on Big Dave during the break, and he’s getting a grip on it, so he’ll be talkin’ at ya after the music stops.
Glad to…well, you know.
<The indicated compact disk plays in its entirety, followed by six minutes of radio silence.>
Hey, there, live-earthers. Big Dave here, talking at ya from the Rock in the Rockies, the Whip-ass in the West, Radio Zombie Free Denver. Sorry again for the spotty service, but we’re having one of those zombie containment issues here at the station, and it’s been a sort of long afternoon for Big Dave. I think I might have a concussion, folks, so if my blabbering makes less sense than usual, that’s probably the reason why.
So, let’s go to the news desk, which looks suspiciously like my own desk, and to Big Dave The News Guy, who bears a striking if unfortunate resemblance to yours, truly.
Allrightythen, folks. Time for your daily news and weather. We’ve got chilly conditions up here on the mountain, with highs in the 20’s and lows overnight down in the high single digits. In other words, if you got a brass monkey hanging around, he’ll have probably frozen his balls off within the last few days. In the forecast, we’ve got whatever nature throws our way, and no real way to figure it out, since the meteorologist turned into a zombie after the flashover and I smashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.
Now, onto the news. We’ve got six dead corpse-chewers down near the station’s rear entrance, brought down by the grace of Big Dave’s old Smith & Wesson, as well as a few whacks with a fire axe that was handy. The electric fence, sadly, shorted out and blew out a whole node of the RZFD power grid. For now, it appears that the three bales of razor wire that Big Dave strung out is keeping the corpse-chewers occupied.
As for injuries, Big Dave’s got a not-so-mild concussion going on, which makes him barf from time to time, as well as thinking of his child sweetheart, Suzy Miller, who could play doctor with the best of them. Other than that, he’s got a sprained thumb, a big cut on the back of his arm, and what he suspects is a high ankle sprain.
Alas, yet another day goes by with no blips on the radio, no brave travelers coming to visit Big Dave. Ah, well. I still believe. I know I’m not the only one out there. Perhaps there’s someone else nearby, but he don’t like rock and roll. Well, fuck him, then. Big Dave’s only interested in those of stern moral character and a fondness for Steppenwolf. The band, I mean. The book by Hesse…well, that’s fully optional.
(Loud crashing in the background can be heard.)
Folks, I’ll have to put on a looped tape of my very favorites. Sounds like our lingering, hungry friends have come back once more. Hope you enjoy the tracks, folks, and hope I’ll be back with you here directly. In any case, this is Big Dave, reporting live from RZFD, the fortress of ass-kickery.
Glad to be here with you, happy to still be alive.
(Sighs) See you around, folks.
(Just before the tape loop begins, there’s a loud set of explosions, possibly from an automatic weapon.)
<A six hour loop of classic rock and pre-1995 heavy metal plays through a little less than twice with no interruption.>
(A female voice comes on, quavering slightly)
Hello, folks. My name is Virginia Beckman. I was a private, first class in the Marine Corps up until the flashover. Signal corp, mostly, so I sort of know how to use most of this equipment.
I’m sorry to report that Big Dave sustained critical wounds in a recent battle with the zombies. I arrived just as a large group of them attacked the station. I just want to say that Big Dave fought bravely, and died a hero. If you’re like me, his voice, his funny comments, and just the fact that something alive was coming over the airwaves kept me going when I was just about ready to give up.
If you’ve got something to toast his memory, now’s the time to raise a glass for Big Dave. If there’s a reward after this life, here’s to hoping that he’s enjoying his right now.
(The quiet sounds of crying are audible for about ninety seconds.)
So anyway, I’m putting the “Easy Rider” soundtrack on, ’cause I think that Big Dave would have liked it that way. Rest in Peace, man. Rest in Peace.
Again, this is Virginia Beckman, broadcasting from Radio Zombie Free Denver. They may be able to kill some of us, but they can’t kill our ideas.
<The aforementioned soundtrack plays, the first of thousands of hours of live broadcasting done by Ms. Beckman.>
Author Bio: Patrick M. Tracy was born in Maine, but moved to the Southwest at twelve years of age. He attended Northern Arizona University, where he graduated with a degree in English. A published fiction writer and poet, he currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, where he fixes computers at a library to support his writing habit. For more information, please go to pmtracy.com