Audiobook - The Last Kids on Earth
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EnglishVoice Age
Child (5-12)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the Last Kids on Earth. The Zombie Parade by Max Brod earlier. Okay, so we're going to be eaten, devoured, swallowed whole or maybe swallowed in bits. Really whole orbits. Doesn't matter. Bottom line eaten because see that train sized beast around us? It's not a train. It's a humongous Oh, were monster the worm ungulates. Now, why are we running from a human? Go were monster. Ah, very good question. With a very silly answer. We are questing, questing, heroically. See, About a month ago, I defeated this big evil beast named Blogged. So I was like, We're heroes. Post apocalyptic action heroes and post apocalyptic action heroes need quests. We're basically the modern version of old timey King are three nights and old Timey King are three nights were always questing all over the place. That's when my best friend Quint Baker, declared We should build a beef. Dairy friend. What's a beastie Eri? You ask. Also a good question. I asked Quint the same thing. Quinn looked at me like I was completely brain dead. Grab the dictionary and read an illustrative, encyclopedic compendium detailing a myriad of mythical creatures. That just sounds like a fancy way of saying Monster notebook, but better, Quinn said. Notebook implies school and study. Beastie Eri implies beasts. Ah, book filled with crinkly yellow pages That smell of ancient history. I was deaf digging that. So I said, I am all about building a Beastie Eri and now we're building a complete beastie area of every single strange creature that has arrived in the town of Wakefield after the Monster Apocalypse began this summer. You need two things for a beastie. Every entry, one a picture. That's my job. You know that's my job because I'm Jack Sullivan monster photographer extraordinaire. Two. You need info like stuff about the monster. Strengths, weaknesses. Where does it hang? What does it eat? Whatever it's hobbies. Does it stink like evil? Yada, yada, yada. Now I realize in terms of like, ultimate heroic quests, writing a book doesn't exactly rank up there with photo carrying the ring to Mount Doom or whatever. I learned that just by calling any random, old Ciara quest, you could make life a lot more fun. Our friend Kirk's quest is to build a vegetable garden. That's not a joke. Dirk apparently loves fresh tomatoes. He says he can't maintain his hulking mass by surviving on Cheetos and Mr Good Bars alone, which is bonkers, since I'm pretty sure those air major food groups Dirks part of my monster fighting crew. He was a terrifying bully back before the end of the world, but now he's a terrifying, monster, crushing guy with a soft side. As you can tell from his vegetable garden quest, Dirk told us that if we had some tomatoes, he could probably make some bootleg pizzas over a fire. And I haven't had pizza legit or bootleg in months. June Del Toro, who was kind of my favorite girl in the world, was in agreement with Dirk on this. She was dying for some non junk food. Bunch of crazies, if you ask May. Anyway, these two very epic quests are the reason Quint, June, Dirk and I are at the Circle One mall. Right now. It's the reason we're racing down the halls main corridor. There's a cab. Bam has the worm barrels through foot locker. My heart is slamming. As I raced through the build a bear workshop and passed the always tasty Mrs Fields cookie stand suddenly slap slap, slap footsteps behind me. As far as I know, worms, even monster worms don't have feet. I twist my head. I'm both very relieved and supremely annoyed to see that it's Quint Quint. I bark, I said, Split up. Why didn't you split? I did split, he replies. When I split, I split left. That's how I split. I yell at Quint, but he doesn't hear May. It's hard to hear anything over the sound of the worms slithering and slicing its way around the corner. Great job, Quint. I holler because there's two of us that were among Bulus decided that we're dinner. An instant later, the worm ungulates barrels down the corridor, streaking past us like an oversized snot rocket come to life. I catch my breath, get to my feet and inch out into the corridor. The worm ungulates left a trail of yellow worm goo, and the floor is now a slick mess. I watch it crash into Nordstrom and disappear in a cloud of dust and oh yeah, I forgot to take a picture