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You climb up on one of the art store’s shelves, grasping a box of crayons firmly in your zombie hands. You take a close look at the art store ceiling. It’s kind of small, but you’ll just have to make do. You slowly raise your drawing utensil and create art.

  It’s beautiful, the scope and magnitude of it.  Your incredible zombie artistic ability matches great artists like Leonardo DaVinchi, Michalangelo and that one contemporary freak who "Painted" by standing on a scaffold and hurling paint cans at a canvas.  That weirdo made a fortune, but you don’t care about money.  You paint because your art is pure and true.  A bright beacon of light in a dark world or some fancy talk like that.

  You cover the entire art store ceiling with some of the most poignant scenes from Michalangoe’s great accomplishment, and several original scenes, you came up with all on your own.  Scenes showing great events from the bible.  Scenes of man and God and what has happened between the two, scenes that equal, if not soundly defeat the art of those who came before you.  It’s beautiful.  Beautiful.

  Just as you finish putting the final touches on your great masterpiece, a team of professional zombie killers burst in the door.  They prepare to blow you away, but then they see your masterpiece, and stop dead in their tracks, amazed and awestruck.  Never before have they seen such mastery.  They beg you to speak to them, to tell them to reveal your ability.

Unconfirmed