- The zombies love fireworks and cant stop staring at them.

Most of them
anyway. The negro walker appears to be completely immune to their charms.
- They have highly characteristic outfits, indicative of their profession/interests.
This is probably meant to give them a little more personality, make them more
relatable to the viewer. Contrasting colors, catchy patterns, unique scars, etc.
- The black Z tries to save them from the slaughter. He recognizes their
individuality and takes every death really hard.
- They can open doors. They communicate in grunts. Currently, they are trying to
learn how to utilize tools properly. They are pretending to be us? Learning how
to be alive.
- Are we alive? Yes. Yes, you are. Probably more alive than youve been in a long
time. Youre trying to stay that way, fighting for survival, giving it your all.
- He feels anger and sorrow. He even puts one of the other zombies out of his
misery.
- Thought this could be a battle. Its a fucking massacre. He already thinks of
them as people.
- I will not become one of those things. THE SAME FUCKING GUY.
The cities (and everything in them) now belong to the zombies. These human
gatherers are more like ruthless raiders, invading peaceful communities,
slaughtering their members, and looting everything of value. Of value to them,
mind you.
The gun as a symbol of human power. As a symbol of technology. The fact that
hes able to grasp the thing and wave it around should be indicative of whats on
the way. Hatchets, bats, guns
This isnt a mindless zombie ramble. This is actually retaliation.
Cholo is a go-getter. Hes as close to a yuppie as you can get in a postapocalyptic world. Ruthless, focused on monetary gains, aiming for the highest
quality of life, consequences be damned.
Mechanized birds chirping in a cage. A great, gilded cage of concrete and metal,
of fancy boutiques and even fancier restaurants. Thats where Cholo wants to end
up. Is this a subtle death wish?
Sadistic soldiers on the barricades.
A guy organizing a revolt in the slums.
Im looking for a world where there is no fences.
Zombies used as cheap entertainment paintball targets, photo decorations, etc.
Once you die, you turn into a zombie?

The people have descended into complete barbarism. For the sake of
entertainment, they are willing to toss one of their own into a zombie-filled cage.
He teaches them how to use their tools. He frees the slaves.
Nazi-like suits with Nazi arm bands. Not very subtle, are you? I wont be needing
this man anymore.
This guy has got so much plot armor that it isnt even funny anymore.
In a world where the dead are returning to life, the world trouble loses much of its
meaning.
We dont negotiate with terrorists.
They are mindless walking corpses!
Yeah, yeah. Its difficult to tell him apart from a frigging zombie, I get it.
The zombie virus as an infective idea. An idea of equality. Among zombies,
everyone is equal.
He stops the clock with his hand. Thats what hes trying to do in real life. Stop
the clock from turning, stop the times from changing. He thinks he can stay in his
ivory tower forever, keep his rule forever.
A black butler wearing a white suit. Serving whitey diligently, trying hard as fuck
to become one. But no matter what he does, it simply wont be enough. Not in
this twisted place. He will never be one of them. He will always stand out.
My ingenuity made the OLD world into something new. Ive put up the fences. I
hired the soldiers and paid for their training. Ive kept the people of the streets by
giving them vices. Thats my responsibility. Do you understand the meaning of
the word responsibility. We have to do what we have to do to keep the power
in our hands.
Well, at least rats arent the carries this time around.
GPS. Im pretty sure there were no GPS systems in the late 60s.
All it takes is a single individual whos got the right idea and the means to
implement it, eh?
REBELS CONTROLLED MASSES THE OVERLORDS
They have no right! No right!
Nah, I always wanted to see how the other half lives.
He kills a zombie on fire so that he wont suffer.
The tag on his jumpsuit says Big Daddy.
Spick bastard.

He knows that gasoline is flammable.

Well turn this place into what weve always wanted it to be. Then what will we
turn into?
Well see, wont we?
They are just looking for a place to go. Same as us.