Mad Libs, and a Zombie

It had been an incredibly long day at work and an even longer week, the kind of week that lasts for months. Jared was convinced that his bosses would flip a switch and stop the clocks at random intervals during the day. The switch also stopped the clocks on everyone’s computer, of course. Regardless, the week was over and the weekend was charging to life. Well, it would be charging to life, if Jared wasn’t stuck on zombie watch in the cemetery.

Normally, zombie watch was a welcome change of pace, a chance to meditate, to focus, and occasionally a chance to kick some rotting corpse’s ass back to the crypt. Tonight, however, he could not get into the groove, and the headstone he usually perched upon felt lumpy and foreign. Maybe tomorrow he could get Cassie to cover for him. She owed him anyway, considering how he took four of her shifts when her boyfriend, the preppy, arrogant junior broker, took her on a surprise getaway. That smug bastard. And what did she see in that jerk anyway? He wouldn’t be able to fight off a zombie hoard, let alone a single zombie, with an army of chainsaw wielding robots that were programmed for no other purpose than killing zombies. Okay, he admitted, maybe that was pushing it a little.

That line of thought was getting him nowhere, and he pushed it aside as he tried to find a more comfortable perch on the marker for Mr. Gary Linerman 1914-1976 Husband – Father – Disaster. Jared had always wondered about the inscription, but found it more fun to guess at its meaning than to actually research it.

With the moon full and the sky clear, there was just enough light to read by, and he fished around in his backpack until he found the battered and creased pad. He had discovered early on that Mad Libs were an entertaining and easy way to pass the time. He flipped the pages until he came to one that was uncompleted. It was the second to last. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a green felt tip pen.

“I need an adjective,” he called out to the empty graveyard. “Anybody? Anything? It’s just an adjective. Ok, it’s up to me then. How about ‘bloated’.”

He scribbled it in and moved on to the next blank. “Ok, now I need an adverb.”

“Grruuuunnggghhh.”

Something behind him groaned, a low mournful noise that sounded like a yawn and a grunt mixed in a blender and poured out slowly.

The cold and fetid corpse breath drifted to him and clung to his face.

“And just how do I spell that,” he said as he set down the pad and moved his hand slowly to the handle of the machete resting against Mr. Linerman’s marble slab.

The zombie groaned again, and this time its breath made his eyes water. It was just behind him, and he knew that if he waited any longer he would feel the thing’s cold, spongy hands on his back.

“Now I need a verb,” he said, his hand tightening on the blade’s well worn handle. “I thought I’d use ‘slash’.”

He pushed off the headstone and spun around. The machete’s blade glinted for an instant in the moonlight and then sunk into the undead creature’s yielding flesh. Jared was by no means a tall man, but he was wiry and packed a punch. The man this particular zombie had spawned from was huge, nearly six feet eight inches tall and weighing 300 pounds (mostly muscle).

The machete had missed the walking corpse’s head and neck completely, and had instead sunken into its chest, lodging in its breastbone. It barely noticed the blow and continued walking in the slow shuffle of the recently deceased. Jared gave the handle a tug, but it would not come away easily.

“Damn,” he said, and retreated back a couple steps.

The Favor

Recently, a friend asked a favor of me. He wanted to know if I could hold onto something for him, but he couldn't tell me what it was.

Turns out it’s an ancient scroll that fell out of his teacher's atache case. The teacher hadn’t realized it fell out and my friend was all set to give it to him when he noticed it’s malign content. After reading several lines of the scroll he realized that it contains a powerful spell with which the caster will command all of the forces of the underworld to effectively take over the world.

He couldn't be sure what the teacher's intentions are with the scroll at this point and so he needs to keep it out of his grasp. Therefore, he elected to hide the scroll at my house putting my family in danger of being attacked by whatever malevolent forces are out to get this powerful talisman. The jerk.

Q: Why does pepper make one sneeze?

Pepper, from the early English Peppegh is part of an elaborate medieval torture system, where by the victim would be forced to grind pepper for the Lord at his stately dinners and anything not left over would be forced into the victim's nose. The sneezing reaction is part of an evolutionary step documented in certain captives, and generally spread throughout humanity, where they would effectively expel the leftover seasoning.

A Pirate's Life for Me

Who wouldn't want to be a pirate. You get to go where you want, take what you want, shoot what you want and be a grungy layabout. Then, if you're a pirate, you instantly get tons of street cred. Pirates are the curs of the sea, and they don't take any lip from anyone. Plus, pirate = rum, and lots of it.

Of course, there are downsides to being a pirate. There's voodoo, being chased by the East India Trading Company, getting all manner of fish eyeing you up for food, and the constant threat of sea madness. Although, those things do all have a certain romantic attraction to them as well.

It's something to debate. But when it comes right down to it, I say Pirate...yes!

Get Your Write On

I'm really trying to write on a regular basis and hopefully sell some stories. It's a little slow going, but if I make it a regular occurance I think all will take care of itself. Getting the baby to sleep before 12 helps.

Not Food

For times when you aren't sure, or you're just too hungry and your judgement is clouded, here is a list of some things that are considered not to be food. Keep in mind, there are many more times in the world than I have space for describing as not food, so this list isn't complete.

*Paper is not food.

*The lint in the dryer after the load is done, while warm and it smells nice, it is not food.

*The container of heavy whipping cream that has been in the fridge for so long that it is no longer liquid but a large gelatinous cube, is not food. It was at one time, but don't be confused it isn't anymore.

*Likewise, a Skittle crushed in the waffle of your shoe is no longer food.

*A CD with a picture of food on it is not food.

*The gunk that has dripped down into the bottom of the refridgerator is not food.

*The little burrs that can be pulled off of a dog after it has walked through the woods are not food.

*An old sock, even though it is full of flavor, is not food.

*Urinal cakes are not food. I know, I know, they have cake in the name, but they're really not food.

*Pine needles, not food.

*The cotton ball in a bottle of tylenol, is not a delicious snack to eat while you get rid of your headache.

*Fake food is not food.

Alien Encounter

Did the aliens come to you last night too? They came to me and said that I and a small group of others were the key to saving their planet from destruction at the hands of The Great Void. Apparently, their home world is threatened by a sweeping darkness that is spreading throughout their galaxy. The Great Void consumes everything in its path and leaves only a cold nonexistence in its wake. They showed me images through their mind link. Itwas terrible.

Of course, you would already know all this if the aliens did come. It seems an impossible task, but if The Great Void is not stopped it could come to our galaxy next. I got a little nervous when they spoke about "upgrading"me. I can't imagine how something like The Great Void could be fought, let alone defeated or eradicated, but I know that something has to be done. Hopefully it will all be made clear.