Wednesday, June 4, 2014

ZOMBIES NEVER, EVER FORGET..... 6/3/14

Madam Blavatska arranged things. Opal set out on a dark June night. Lady Clemmentina, a beautiful, experienced English flesh-eater drove. They took out one of the black Porsches . Cops know 'em and won't interfere. Dressed the part to, just like Emma Peal. You know... the one from The Avengers.

On the way they talked. Zombies like to talk. Not like in the movies, believe me. Who'd make a good flesh eater?... A favorite. Clemmentina said - I vote for Nicole Kidman. She has a lean and hungry look. .... Opal thought Harry Styles, but she's just in ninth grade, you know... Or she was before all this happened.... They downed five-hour-energy-drinks too.  Zombies don't worry about caffeine. Then they got the giggles. 

Everything was set. The teacher with the sharp nails would meet a girl with even sharper teeth. Various intelligence functionaries got the address. That was easy. A smart twelve year old tech geek with a regular PC could probably do the same. Maybe the functionary was a twelve year old tech geek? Who knows?

Two homeless drunks argued 'neath an old, classical loggia.  The British flesh eater saw them. She hated imperfection and said - If they stopped trying to control us... if they just let us run free, this planet would be a much better place. Think about it. We'd proliferate reaching truer levels and we'd finish them... Not all, just the garbage. Oh, they'd fight us. We'd kill some. They'd kill some. But we're well equipped too. Maybe on a per-capita level even better than they are...... What does per-capita mean? - asked Opal...... But the light changed. They moved on and Clemmentina thought about other things. 

After a time they left the urban area proper, entering suburban hinterlands. Some were technically within the city limits, but the atmosphere was different. Detached houses of all stripes, fronted by modest lawns, lined winding roads. Here and there small 'water features' gurgled softly in the night. A raccoon couple browsed for tidbits, as a silent tabby trailed a fretting mouse. Clemmentine turned off the lights, coasted to a stop and said - That's it. The little 'colonial.' God, you Americans are architecturally dense. The burglar alarm is disarmed by the way. We have people. Don't ask. A dollar a day only buys so much. Enter through the rear basement window. No dogs. No cats. Two humans... your nemesis teacher-woman and her husband, both asleep, or in bed anyway, upstairs in the big front room. Left hand side facing us. That's it, up there. Now go. ...... Opal moved. The seductive Brit, zombie added - Wait a moment. Don't get caught. If you do we'll abandon you. Oh, they won't kill you. You'll be turned over to one of their scientific installations and live like a monkey in a cage. So, you know, don't get caught.....Opal went - Yo, English lady..... Clemmentine whispered - Yes?.... The formerly ninth grade flesh-eater added - You sure talk a lot..... And quietly left the car. The talkative English lady drove 'round the corner and waited.... A black clad woman in a pitch black car. The night welcomed them both. 

Opal used what she learned from Madam Blavatska and the others, plus copious reruns of Charlie's Angels and Dora the Explorer to accomplish her mission.

The teacher with the sharp nails was going to die. Hopefully, her husband wouldn't be too traumatized. 

Who knows? Maybe he wants her to die too?

Things are so simple for a ninth grade zombie with a grudge...

(more tomorrow... )

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