Zombie towels are indistinguishable from normal towels, until you try to dry yourself with one.

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Zombie towels arrange themselves invitingly on sun loungers.

If you lie on one it will wrap itself around you and suck the marrow from your bones.

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I once wrung out a zombie towel; several pints of blood and someone’s internal organs slopped out of it and onto the poolside.

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Zombie towels hang on the washing line, groaning, miserable with bloodlust. It is impossible to cleanse them. Even a boil wash won’t kill the virus.

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Zombie towels are the scourge of the spa. Hotels are notorious breeding grounds. But the Health & Safety Executive is at a loss as to how to remedy the problem.

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Even if you starve a zombie towel for several months you won’t destroy it. It’ll roam your airing cupboard, searching for mice. The only way to kill one is to immerse it in holy water or cheap vodka.

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My zombie bath towel ate my genitals.