Greatest Zombie Movie Ever (4 page)

Justin stared at the screen of his laptop. Eight in the morning came pretty quickly when you were up until four thirty brainstorming ideas, and he'd almost hit the wonderful, wonderful snooze button…but no. He had a lot of writing to do today. It was time to use the skills he'd perfected over all these years of waiting until the night before to write essays.

They'd divided the story into three parts. Justin had wanted to write the third part, which had the most carnage, but they drew straws (well, pretzel sticks) to decide who got to write what. Gabe got the second part, and Bobby got the third. They'd both spent the night at his house and were asleep on the floor. He'd tried to rouse Gabe, but then he was politely told to die. He knew better than to try to poke Bobby. That was a good way to lose a finger. They'd just have to write faster to catch up.

He continued to stare at the screen.
Look how blank I am!
, the screen seemed to say.

Maybe he'd write better if he got some more sleep.

No. Sleep was a luxury he could not afford if he was going to achieve his goal. Sleep was for losers who
weren't
trying to make the greatest zombie movie ever. Maybe he'd have permanent dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he'd start hallucinating bloodthirsty orangutans, and maybe he'd become so delirious that he'd forget how to blink. But those were the sacrifices of a true artist.

Then again Alicia might like him better if he didn't spend all day twitching and babbling incoherently.

He'd worry about his never-gonna-happen relationship with Alicia later. For now he had to focus entirely on the movie. It was time to write.

FADE IN:

INT. CITY STREET – NIGHT

A helicopter crashes to the ground, crushing dozens of zombies. It rolls down the street, leaving a thick smear of squished zombies in its path, until it finally hits a tall building, which crashes to the ground.

As the cloud of dust clears, we hear only the sound of zombies moaning. They're everywhere. The apocalypse has not been kind to this city.

But then, impossibly, the helicopter door opens! VERONICA CHAOS, 15 and stunningly beautiful even with all of the lacerations covering her body, crawls out, wearing a shredded white wedding dress. She's holding a cat.

She gazes up at the sky and howls in primal anguish.

The TITLE appears on-screen: UNTITLED ZOMBIE MOVIE.

[Note to self: Add real title when we know it.]

Perfect! This could not be flowing any better. At this rate he'd be done with his third of the script by lunchtime. In fact, it was going so well that he could get in a quick game of—

No! No games. Famous filmmakers didn't have time for video games. If you showed up at Peter Jackson's house, he wouldn't be sitting there playing
Minecraft
. The only thing he had time for was to check Reddit and—

No! No Reddit. He needed to remain completely focused on this script until he'd written his thirty to thirty-three pages. Especially since he might have to pick up some of Gabe's and/or Bobby's slack. Bathroom breaks were acceptable if they weren't too frequent, but aside from that, Justin needed to maintain laser focus. Cyborg focus. Nothing existed in his world except for this screenplay.

Veronica walks down the street, limping a bit because she was just in a helicopter crash. A pair of zombies runs toward her.

“Fast zombies or slow zombies?” Justin had asked last night, early in the story development discussion.

“Slow zombies,” said Gabe.

“Fast zombies,” said Bobby.

“Slow zombies are scarier.”

“No, they're not. Fast zombies are scarier because they're fast.”

“Fast zombies aren't realistic.”

“
Zombies
aren't realistic.”

“If you were a corpse that came back to life, you wouldn't be moving fast,” Gabe insisted. “It doesn't make any sense. Decomposed muscles are slow.”

“You can just walk away from slow zombies,” said Bobby. “Just la-di-da, strolling along. Oops, that one is kind of close. I'd better veer slightly to the left. Uh-oh, there's another one. I suppose I'll have to shove it over.”

“Until you're overwhelmed by their sheer numbers,” said Gabe. “That's the whole point of zombies. They don't seem like a huge threat until suddenly you're surrounded and there's no way to escape. You're doomed.”

“You're more doomed if you're surrounded by fast zombies.”

“
Shaun of the Dead
has slow zombies.”

“
Zombieland
has fast zombies.”

“Lucio Fulci's
Zombie
has slow zombies.”

“
28 Days Later
has fast.”

“Those aren't zombies. Those are the infected.”

“They're zombies.”

“They're the infected.”

“Stop being such a zombie snob.”

“I'm not being a snob. I'm being accurate.”

“
Dawn of the Dead
has fast zombies.”

“No,
Dawn of the Dead
has slow zombies.”

“It has fast zombies,” said Bobby. “I watched it last week. We'll put in the Blu-ray.”

“Which one are you talking about?”

“
Dawn of the Dead
.”

“No, which version?”

“I'm talking about the remake.”

“Well, I'm talking about the original.”

“The remake was better.”

“Get out of my house,” said Gabe. “I mean Justin's house.”

“I'm allowed to express my opinion. You can't tell me that if you were walking down the sidewalk and somebody said, ‘Hey, dude, I'm going to release a dozen zombies to chase after you. Would you prefer that I release the fast-moving variety or the slow-moving variety?' you wouldn't request the slow-moving ones.”

“That's real life. This is a movie.”

“You're the one who was talking about realism.”

“Okay,” said Gabe. “If we're going to try to make the greatest zombie movie ever, then we need to pay homage to the original classic,
Night of the Living Dead
. Therefore, we need to go with slow zombies. Case closed.”

“The first zombie in
Night of the Living Dead
chased after Barbara in her car, so technically it had both fast
and
slow zombies. Ha! Logic fail!”

“That's it!” said Justin. “We'll have the best of both worlds. Our movie will have both fast and slow zombies. Guaranteed mass appeal!”

“What about talking zombies?” asked Bobby.

“No talking zombies,” said Justin and Gabe, almost simultaneously.

“
Return of the Living Dead
had talking zombies.”

“Shut up,” Justin and Gabe said.

Veronica watches the zombies, her expression unreadable. But then she…smiles.

VERONICA

Sorry, guys. Not today.

She takes out a machine gun [
Note to self: Figure out where she was keeping the machine gun.
] and opens fire. The zombies' heads turn to goopy mush, and they drop to the ground. [
Note to self: It would be cool if the mush formed the shape of something that symbolizes our movie's theme.
] [
Note to self: Discuss theme with Gabe and Bobby.
]

More zombies begin to run toward her! She puts the cat on her shoulder and takes out a second machine gun.

VERONICA

You wanna play, huh? Consider it playtime.

With a machine gun in each hand, Veronica pulls the triggers and spins in a circle, mowing down zombies like crazy. She's like a zombie-slaying ballerina.

Justin wondered what the record was for the most zombies killed in a single movie. Maybe he'd try to break that record in the opening
scene
.

Well, no, the story had to come first. If his plot naturally lent itself to setting the world record for the most zombies ever splattered in a single movie, he'd go that route.

Bobby rolled over onto his back and began to snore. When he snored, it sounded like he was choking to death on his own tongue. Usually Justin was able to ignore it, but not while he was trying to be a genius. “Hey, Bobby,” he said. “Roll over.”

“
Not enough butter on my Pop-Tart
,” said Bobby, not waking up. He resumed his snoring.

“Roll over, Bobby.”

“
That cow doesn't really have hair. It's a toupee.
”

Gabe sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Is he dreaming?”

“I hope so.”

Bobby let out a snore so otherworldly that no sound designer could recreate it for a motion picture. Then he rolled back over on his side.

Gabe got out of his sleeping bag and looked over Justin's shoulder. “I see that you've started our no-budget film with a helicopter crash.”

“Yes.”

Gabe shrugged. “All right. We'll figure it out.”

A few minutes later, Justin's mom peeked into his room to ask if they were ready for breakfast. Justin decided that food was probably a good idea if he wanted to keep himself alive during the writing process, so he and Gabe headed downstairs, letting Bobby sleep.

They sat at the dining room table, where his mom had set out scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, pancakes, and toast. “Where's Bobby?” she asked.

“Still asleep.”

“But blueberry pancakes are his favorite.”

His mom really liked Bobby and Gabe, calling them her “bonus sons.” Justin's dad liked them too, although Justin suspected that he kept an invoice of food costs that he wanted to present to their parents. Bobby lived with his mom, three little sisters (Becky, Bonnie, and Betty), and five dogs (Bongo, Boink, Bleeper, Booga, and Bippity). Since Justin was allergic to dogs, he never went over there. Gabe, like Justin, was an only child, but his mom and dad were strong believers in a clothing-optional lifestyle, so Justin's parents didn't really like him to go over there. Neither did Gabe.

“So what are your plans for today?” Mom asked.

“We're writing the script for a zombie movie. Our first feature.”

“Is it going to be R-rated?”

Justin chuckled. “At least.”

“I wish you wouldn't watch R-rated movies.”

“We're not watching one. We're making one.”

Justin's mom was an overprotective parent in a lot of ways, but she didn't restrict his movie watching as long as he continued to demonstrate that he could tell the difference between fantasy and reality. Though she was not a fan of his enthusiasm for horror movies, she knew there were much worse things he could be doing with his friends, like vandalism or treason.

“Keep those grades up, and you can watch as many eyeballs getting poked out as you want,” Dad often told him, when the subject came up. “The first time those grades drop, no more severed heads for you.”

“What's it about?” Mom asked.

“A survivor in a postapocalyptic landscape. The whole city is overrun by the living dead. To stay alive, she has to rely on her wits and her machine guns.”

“Well, it's nice that you have a female lead. Hopefully she'll be a good role model. But why don't you try making a
nice
movie sometime?”

“We might. Someday.”

“People like nice movies. You could make a movie that makes people feel better about the world around them. Why don't you make a movie about an immigrant who overcomes adversity?”

“Zombies are adversity.”

“Or make a movie about a kid with a disease who ends up not dying from it. Something that inspires people. What's that one movie? The one that makes everybody happy. The one with that one girl. Ron, you know which one I mean, right?”

“
The Wizard of Oz
?”

“No.”

“
Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2
?”

“No.”

“
The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies
?”

“No.”

“
The Exorcist
?” asked Justin.

“Don't be a wise guy. You both know which movie I'm talking about.”

“We really don't.”

“It'll come to me in the middle of the night. Anyway, you should consider making something that critics will call the feel-good movie of the year.”

Justin grinned. “I could film ninety minutes of two people making out.”

“Very funny.”

“I could cast myself as the lead.”

“If you don't want to use my suggestions, that's fine. I just think people enjoy movies where they leave with a song in their heart.” Mom's eyes lit up. “You could do a musical!”

“A zombie musical?”

“No, a real musical! Like that one movie.”

“
The Exorcist
?”

“Stop it. Would you like some more bacon, Gabe?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Justin's mom put two more slices of bacon on Gabe's plate. “Think about what I've said. The world loves movies that aren't rated R.”

“Don't worry,” said Justin. “I'll do a G-rated version just for you.”
A thirty-five-second version
, he thought.

“Thank you.”

“By the way, Dad, can I borrow twenty thousand dollars?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Okay.”

“On a serious note though, if you really are looking for financing, you should consider talking to Grandma.”

“Really?”

Dad nodded. “She's not going to give you twenty grand, but if you need money for supplies, I bet she'd be willing to pitch in.”

This was surprising news to Justin. Grandma always included a ten-dollar bill in her birthday cards, but she'd reacted to his three short films by informing him that they were “cute, dear.” He'd never considered her as a source of funding.