My friend has great voice acting ability. He demanded that I write something (with only 15 minutes to write) for him to perform... I did. Here you are, read it aloud and see how it sounds. Also, the zombie should sound like a New Yorker.
Just A Bite
The werewolf scratched its belly and leaned against the rock. It let out a satisfied belch and raised its beer. The graying corpse sitting next to him also held out his beer. The two toasted their successful pillage of the town.
The zombie smiled at the full moon. "We're so fucking awesome."
The werewolf snorted. "Well, I am but you need to stop and patch your self up."
The zombie raised one eyebrow. "What are you talkn' bout? I'm in mint condition."
He waved his arms to emphasis his point, and his right middle finger fell off. "Okay," he hissed, "working on the details here. But if you came from where I came from, you'd be dead."
The werewolf howled. "You saying I couldn't make it in a grave yard?"
The zombie threw down his beer. "I'm saying you cannot make in civilized society bitch."
The werewolf narrowed his eyes. "Right. Okay then. I'll kill you right now."
The zombie laughed in his face. "To late sweet heart. Its been done."
The werewolf flexed its powerful muscles and leaned back on it's haunches. "Then I'll show you how it's done properly."
The zombie lifted his chain saw. "Killing you will be a pleasure. I was fine pillaging towns with out you."
The werewolf rolled his eyes. "Please, you can hardly run!"
The zombie revved his chainsaw. "Well I ain't running now."
He lunged at the werewolf screaming death as he brought the chain saw down. The werewolf sprung in the air, as the metal racked against his arm. The werewolf's claws were out as he swiped across the rotting torso of his traveling companion.
The zombie stumbled backwards making the chainsaw embed in his left shoulder. He screamed in fury as the werewolf circled behind him kicking at him with powerful forepaws.
The zombie fell to his knees and the werewolf pounced on his chest. The werewolf smiled devilishly as he pinned down his prey and began to tear chunks out of the zombie's shoulder.
"Damnit Erick! You made your point!" the zombie screamed trying to push the werewolf off him. Josh snapped his jaws menacingly.
"Sorry Josh," Erick said as he munched his food, "but I'm sick of your shit. Lone wolf and all that jazz."
He leaned down with his gapping maw and crushed Josh's skull with powerful jaws ripping head from neck. He spat out the zombie's useless head. "Brains," he said disgustedly.
Erick sniffed down at the corpse. "Meats rotten anyway."
He paced away sluggishly, hardly noticing the ache in his bones.
At morning light when his fur receded slightly, and his snout shortened he noticed on his forearm the shimmering crescent bite mark. "What the hell!" he screamed running to the sink.
Scrubbing for hours, the mark did not fade. Erick finally had to stop as weariness set into his bones and a fire swept through his soul. His breath became ragged and his heartbeat ceased completely as pain was intensified in all his nerves.
That night, the final night of the lunar circle, he rose up with a terrible scream building his throat.
He howled and scratched at his ear with his hind leg. The fur came off in tuffs and his limbs creaked. As he moved he noticed his skin was grey and his monstrous appetite had changed.
"Brainnnnnnnnnnnnnnns…" he moaned as he sniffed the air searching.
He shook his head angrily at the dark realization of what he had become. "Fucking zombies."