Brains for the Zombie Soul (a parody) (25 page)
While they were gone, little Goldilocks found
their little house and went inside.
First, she saw three chairs in the living
room.
She sat on the first one, Papa Zombie’s chair,
which was a big and wooden and looked almost like a throne. She
struggled to get comfortable and said, “This chair is too
hard.”
Then she went to Mama Zombie’s chair. It was a
big papasan with a really fluffy cushion. She struggled to climb up
into it, and when she did, she said, “This chair is too soft.”
Then she went to Baby Zombie’s chair. It was a
small lazy boy lounge chair. She sat back in the chair and said,
“Now this one is just right.” When she pulled the lever to put up
the foot rest, something made a loud thump inside the chair. Her
feet rested on the foot rest only slightly, then the chair sank and
the rest fell off to one side.
So instead, she went into the kitchen. On the
table, there were 3 bowls of porridge. She went to the Papa
Zombie’s, a big bowl of steaming brains, picked up the spoon and
took a taste. “Ew!” she said. “This porridge is too hot.”
She slid over to the next seat, Mama Zombie’s
and took a spoonful of shredded wheat. “Ew!” she said. This
porridge is too cold.
Then she sat in Baby Zombie’s chair at the
kitchen table and took a spoonful of cocoa wheats. “Yum!” she said.
“This one is just right!”
After she ate all of Baby Zombie’s breakfast,
she was sleeping, so she went upstairs to the bedroom.
The bed closest to the door was Papa Zombie’s.
It was really big bed, and she had to use a stepladder to get up in
it. It had one small pillow on it, which was flat, and one thin
blanket. “Oh no,” she said as she laid on it, “this bed is way too
hard.”
The middle bed was Mama Zombie’s. There were
many pillows all over the bed in all shapes and sizes, and
Goldilocks threw most of them off. It was also covered in many
fluffy blankets and comforters, and she thought she was drowning in
all of the covers. “Oh no,” she said, “This bed is much too
soft.”
Finally she went over to the bed next to the
window. It was a racecar bed, with a matching racecar quilt. She
laid her head down on the big, soft pillow with a checkered flag
pillow case. “Oh yes,” she said, yawning, “This bed is just right.”
And Goldilocks fell asleep.
The three zombies arrived home from their walk
to find the front door open. “Oh no,” said Papa Zombie. “Someone’s
been in our house.” He grabbed a shovel out of the shed. “Stay
behind me,” he said, and they tip toed into the house.
First they went to the living room. Papa Zombie
sniffed the air. “Someone’s been in my chair,” he said.
Mama Zombie found her chair all moved around.
“Someone’s been in my chair too,” she said.
Baby Zombie was trying to fold his chair back
up. He was crying. “Someone’s been in my chair too,” he said with
tears in his eyes, “and they broke it.”
“It’s okay,” said Papa Zombie, hugging him.
“We’ll go into town and get you a new chair.”
Then they went into the kitchen to their places
at the table. Papa Zombie sniffed his bowl of brains and said,
“Someone’s been eating my porridge.”
Mama Zombie poked at the soggy shredded wheat in
her bowl and said, “Someone’s been eating all my porridge too.”
Baby Zombie’s stomach rumbled as he said,
“Someone’s been eating my porridge too.” He held up the empty bowl.
“And they ate it all up!”
“It’s okay,” said Mama Zombie. “I’ll make you
some more cocoa wheats.”
Finally they went upstairs. Papa Zombie saw the
step ladder next to his bed and said, “Someone’s been sleeping in
my bed.”
Mama Zombie saw all her pillows scattered over
the floor and said, “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed too.”
Baby Zombie stood at the end of his bed and
said, “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed too.” He touched
Goldilock’s foot. “And she’s still there!”
This woke Goldilocks up, and she screamed, “Ahh!
Zombies! Help!”
“It’s okay,” said Baby Zombie. “You can sleep in
my bed if you want to.”
Goldilocks huddled in the corner of the bed in
fright as the zombies went downstairs. Mama Zombie made Baby Zombie
some lunch, and then the three zombies went to the store to buy
Baby Zombie a new chair.
When they got back, Goldilocks was still hiding
in Baby Zombie’s bed. “Here you go,” said Baby Zombie, as Papa
Zombie was blowing up an air mattress, and Mama Zombie was putting
a quilt and pillow on it. “You can sleep here.”
“Come on dear,” said Mama Zombie, leading her
downstairs. “Let me make you something to eat. Would you like a
grilled cheese sandwich?”
As Goldilocks was eating, Papa Zombie asked,
“Little girl, where are your parents?”
“I don’t have parents,” she said with her mouth
full of the best grilled cheese sandwich she had ever had.
“Then you can stay here with us!” cheered Baby
Zombie.
And they lived happily ever after.
****
Undead Chicken Little
One day, Chicken Little was walking
through the woods when she saw a figure stumbling through the
trees.
“Oh no,” said Chicken Little. “The zombies are
coming! The zombies are coming! I must go tell the sheriff.”
As Chicken Little was running towards town, she
met Henny Penny.
“The zombies are coming!” cried Chicken Little.
“They’re stumbling through the woods!”
“Oh no,” said Henny Penny. “We must go tell the
sheriff.”
Together Chicken Little and Henny Penny were
running towards town when they met Ducky Lucky.
“The zombies are coming!” cried Henny Penny and
Chicken Little.
“They’re stumbling through the woods!” cried
Chicken Little.
“Oh no,” said Ducky Lucky. “We must go tell the
sheriff.”
Together, Chicken Little, Henny Penny, and Ducky
Lucky were running towards town when they met Goosey Loosey.
“The zombies are coming!” cried Henny Penny,
Ducky Lucky and Chicken Little.
“They’re stumbling through the woods!” cried
Chicken Little.
“Oh no,” said Goosey Loosey. “We must go tell
the sheriff.”
Together Chicken Little, Ducky Lucky, Goosey
Loosey and Henny Penny were running towards town when they met
Turkey Lurkey.
“The zombies are coming!” cried Henny Penny,
Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey and Chicken Little.
“They’re stumbling through the woods!” cried
Chicken Little.
“Oh no,” said Turkey Lurkey. “We must go tell
the sheriff.”
Into town and to the police station went Chicken
Little, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, Henny Penny, and Turkey Lurkey.
“The zombies are coming!” they all cried to the sheriff, Foxy
Loxy.
“But you are all zombies already,” said Foxy
Loxy, and chased them all back into the woods.
“No, wait, don’t go,” said the townsfolk. “Come
live here with us.”
So Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey,
Turkey Lurkey, Chicken Little, and all the townspeople chased Foxy
Loxy out of town.
****
About the Zombie Rights Campaign
The
Zombie Rights Campaign strongly believes in equality for all
individuals, whether living, unliving, or anywhere in between.
Although great progress has been made in many
areas of civil rights, sadly, the undead and their allies still
face tremendous difficulty in larger society. Stereotypes abound,
and unjust discrimination against the undead, and zombies in
particular, is commonplace.
There is hope, however! Thanks to the generous
contributions of readers like you, the ZRC is bringing new
attention and focus to the age-old problem of lifeist prejudice,
and educating the public about peaceful, productive co-existence
with their unliving neighbors and colleagues. The ZRC is grateful
for the support it receives, and encourages everyone to help in any
way they can, so that one day we can all live in a society where
people are judged, not on the color of their skin, or their core
body temperature, but the content of their character.
Find more information about the Zombie Rights
Campaign online at http://zombierightscampaign.org.
--
The Zombie Rights Campaign
John J Sears, President
Jenny Rowland, Technical Director
****
About the Author
Michelle Hartz is a living human currently
residing in Bloomington, Indiana, with her living husband, two
living cats, a living turtle, and two fish (animation state of the
fish is unknown, they are thought to be differently animated). (In
fact, sometimes we wonder about the turtle too.) (Now that I’m
thinking of it, I don’t know which lives the cats are on, they must
have lost a couple of their nine lives in there somewhere.)
She spends her nights hanging around with
zombies, monsters, vampires, ghosts, drag queens, martini drinkers,
and worst of all, fellow writers. She gives up her life once a year
to write a novel for National Novel Writing Month, and even
attempts to lead and inspire other writers subjecting themselves to
the same horror. Frightfully, her days are spent calling herself a
graphic designer behind a desk in an office, dealing with
CUSTOMERS! *shudder*
Also look for her previous novel, Helpless, a
horror story set on a wind farm.
