What I did on my summer vacation, part two...
(Continued from here)At some point thereafter, through the foggy scrim that now passed for my consciousness, I heard my doorbell ringing. Thinking that it might have been the UPS person bringing me the box of leather harnesses and ball gags I had ordered last week, I raced upstairs to answer it. Strangely, even though I was now a zombie, I felt pretty much the same as I always do. A little more light-headed, perhaps, a little less graceful, but still basically like me. It was interesting. I had always assumed that the transition from normal human being to crazed, lifeless man-beast would be slightly more dramatic.
Still, I now had an insatiable lust for the taste of warm brains. So I suppose that was different.
Regardless, when I threw open my front door, there was no cheerful delivery person dressed in brown standing there. Instead, there were two well-dressed, earnest-looking young people decked out in ill-fitting khakis and nacho-stained plaid button-downs. They were bedecked in colorful buttons and toting armfuls of campaign literature. “Hello, sir,” one of them said to me, “My name is Hewitt...”
“And I’m Petey,” said the other
“...And we’re here to tell you about Mark Kennedy, Minnesota’s next senator!”
Normally, I’d have a witty rejoinder to all this Republico-cant, but that was before the nearly-skeletonized and re-animated corpse of Ronald Reagan had infected me with the curse of the undead. Now, all I could bring myself to say was “Must! Eat! Braaaaains!” as I reached out my stiff arms to grab Petey, the nearest and juicier-looking volunteer.
“Yes! Brains!” Hewitt enthused as his partner and I grappled with each other, “Mark Kennedy has FAR more of them than any stupid idiot terrorist-appeasing Democrat! He’s a C.P.A., you know! That’s, like, a totally hard test to take! With all the math on it and everything!”
“Brains! Brains! Brains!” I bellowed at him, opening my mouth wide to bite off Petey’s nose. With the change from human to inhuman (or, more accurately, post-human), I had become privy to all manner of obscure zombie-knowledge. One thing that I now knew was that the nose or the ear is the best way to get at a living person’s fresh, delicious brains. The bones there are quicker and the cartilage is easier to chew away. It can be a challenge to smash a victim’s skull and you need steady hands if you want to tear off the jaw and go in through that route. Zombies usually don’t have steady hands. I sure didn’t. All I had was a mouthful of drool and an all-consuming bloodlust.
Frustration and hunger were all I got, however, because just as I was about to sink my teeth into that young man’s skin, two more Republicans leapt out from behind the bushes and threw a net over me. “Got him!” Hewitt shouted, pumping his fist in the air.
“You were going to let him BITE me!” Petey cried.
“Sometimes you have to take risks to reap rewards. You would understand that if you weren’t such a RINO,” Hewitt lectured him as the other two Republicans wrestled me to the ground, weaving their net tighter and tighter.
Petey shook his head. “But he was going to EAT me!”
“Better you than me,” Hewitt said and then he gave me a weak little kick.
I growled and struggled, but I was caught. “Braaaaaaains!” I cried out, forlorn and miserable. The Republicans hoisted me up and threw me in the back of a cargo van. It was dark in there, but I knew from the noise and the stench that I was being locked up with others just like me. “Brains!” we cried out as the van started down the road, “Waaaaaaaant! Braaaaaaaains!”
But there would be no brains for us. We were headed for the Mark Kennedy For Senate campaign headquarters...
(To be continued)
