Daily Archives: October 18, 2016

Zomcation – Chapter 24

 

The Happy Little International Children Experience began as a slow, leisurely boat ride through a long, dark tunnel adorned with bright, twinkling, multi-colored lights. The boats weren’t so much floating as they were being pulled via an elaborate underwater conveyor system, but the effect was just the same.

Abby sat and sipped on her convenience store soda, her mind conjuring up images from her youth, a happier time when her parents and her brother rode the ride with her, but not because they particularly enjoyed it.

Hell, no one but Abby ever has or ever likely will enjoy the Happy Little International Children Experience. It has been routinely voted most annoying ride for thirty straight years by the readers of Theme Park Enthusiast Digest.

But Abby’s mother, father and brother rode it because they knew she loved it and it was that love that she was missing so much as she looked around the illuminated tunnel.

An old woman in a gray sweater sat to Abby’s left, clutching a set of rosary beads in her hand. Abby hadn’t noticed it before but as she looked back, the whole boat she was in was filled with kids ranging between ten and sixteen years old. The unkempt urchins wore tattered clothes and chatted amongst themselves.

“Ma’am,” Abby said.

“Yes, dear?” the old woman replied in an Irish brogue.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Abby said. “But are you a nun?”

“That I am, child,” the old woman said. “Sister Eugenia of the Order of Our Lady of the Immaculate Cast Iron Undergarments.”

Abby appeared in doubt. “Seriously?”

“Oh,” Sister Eugenia said with a chuckle. “Its been years since they’ve made us wear anything like that.”

Abby pointed her thumb toward the back of the boat. “Are they all with you?”

“Yes,” Sister Eugenia said. “For the past decade I’ve been assigned to the order’s home for wayward orphans right here in Florida.”

Abby watched the kids. “You mean none of these kids have parents?”

“Sadly no,” Sister Eugenia said. “All of their parents have died under the most horrific circumstances, lost to the drink or the drugs, car accidents, heroin overdoses, so many folks out there just love to chase that dragon, don’t you know?”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Abby said.

“And then there are the mothers who sell their bodies on the street corner only catch an exotic venereal disease or to end up sliced and diced by depraved maniacs,” Sister Eugenia said. “Or the fathers who join street gangs and end up riddled with so many bullet holes that they end up looking like Swiss cheese.”

“I see,” Abby said.

“Don’t even get me started on the parents who sniff magic markers,” Sister Eugenia said.

“I won’t,” Abby said.

“So many lovely children end up orphaned because their parents were uncontrollable magic marker fume addicts, completely incapable of stopping themselves from shoving magic markers up their nostrils in order to sniff the devil’s aroma.”

“That’s terrible,” Abby said.

“Then I suppose once in awhile there’s a father with a strange sexual addiction…”

“I get the picture,” Abby said.

“They can’t get their rocks off unless they’re being strangled,” Sister Eugenia said. “Or if they’re wearing a leather gimp mask. Or if they’re having dangerously bizarre foreign objects shoved up their rectums and its all fun and games until somehow it all goes tragically wrong and…”

“Sister,” Abby said. “I get it. These kids have been through bad times.”

“They surely have, dear,” Sister Eugenia said.

“They seem well-behaved,” Abby said.

“Oh that’s just because this is our yearly excursion outside the orphanage’s walls and I’ve warned them that if I hear a peep out of any of them we’ll all go straight home,” Sister Eugenia said. “Harsh, I know, but you must never show weakness around children, dear.”

“I’m starting to realize that,” Abby said. “I have two of my own.”

“Where are they?” Sister Eugenia asked.

“Doing their own thing,” Abby said. “They want nothing to do with me these days.”

“Ahh,” Sister Eugenia said. “Don’t feel bad. It happens to every parent sooner or later.”

“All they do is complain, complain, complain,” Abby said. “It’s always, ‘me, me, me’ with those two.”

“Well, what do you expect, dear?” Sister Eugenia asked. “Weren’t you like that when you were their age?”

Abby sighed. “I suppose.”

“Every child deserves a parent’s unconditional love,” the sister said. “Once they’re old enough to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around them they’ll return it to you in spades, don’t you worry.”

“I’d just settle for being appreciated,” Abby said.

“Wouldn’t we all, dear?” Sister Eugenia asked. “Wouldn’t we all?”

Sister Eugenia balled up her fist and expelled a burp into it.

“Pardon me, dear.”

“It happens,” Abby said.

“The order was kind enough to give me a budget large enough to take the children to lunch at the wombat food court and I’m afraid Funky Cola does not sit well with me at all.”

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Zomcation – Chapter 23

shutterstock_225100087The Chief was shaped like a walrus, with the mustache to boot. He turned down the volume on his daytime television, then swiveled around in his chair in order to give Doug a vigorous dressing down.

“You’ve been a real thorn in my side ever since you joined the force, Crocker.”

Doug, who was seated on the opposite side of his boss’s desk, flipped up his clip-on shades. “You call this ‘the force?’”

“The Wombat World Security Team is the finest organization of officers in the entire amusement park industry,” the Chief said. “We make those suck bags keeping an eye on Kippy’s Kangatropolis look like a bunch of pukes and I will not have you sullying our good name.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Doug said.

Wam! The Chief banged his fist down on his desk, causing bundles of papers and empty coffee cups to scatter everywhere. “Goddamn it, Crocker! You’re a loose cannon!”

Doug stood up and leaned over the desk. “What would you know about it?! I’m out there every day, day in, day out, putting my ass on the line while you’re in here, polishing your brass and waxing your chair with your ass, pretending like all the busy work you do means something just to justify your miserable bureaucratic existence!”

The Chief leaned over and glared angrily at his subordinate.  The two men leered and snarled at one another. There was less than an inch between their faces.

“Your one and only job here is to observe and report, shit for brains!” the Chief shouted. “You think you got a real big swinging dick whenever you do all this cowboy shit Crocker but I swear to God one of these days you’re going to get someone killed and then its going to be all our asses on the line!”

“Aww,” Doug said as he flipped his clip-on shades down. “If you can’t stand the heat then get out of the kitchen baby because this chef is cooking with gas.”

The Chief opened up a heavy, paper stuffed folder with Doug’s name printed on the side. “Hassling old ladies…hassling children…hassling park guests of every kind…”

“Rule breakers, Chief,” Doug said. “The whole lot of ‘em. Get your head out of your ass and get my back, man. Don’t you realize we’re the last line of defense between order and chaos in this park?”

“Did you stop a little girl this morning?” the Chief asked.

“Her pie hole was filled with a giant wad of Bubblelicious,” Doug said. “She sticks it on one of the antique Willy Wombat statues or leaves it on somebody’s seat and bam, pow! The whole park gets flushed down the shitter.”
“Her mother ripped my head off over that,” the Chief said as he flipped through the pages in the folder. “You have truly been a giant, festering, puss filled boil on my ass for as long as I’ve known you, Crocker, but I’ve finally got you know. You’ve finally written a check so large that your ass can’t cash it.”

“Bullshit!” Doug said. “I’m a duly designated officer of cartoon based theme park law!”

The Chief foamed at the mouth. “Did you get a gift shop trashed?”

Doug looked away from his boss. “I don’t know anything about it.”

The Chief pounded his fist down on his desk, then pointed at Doug. “Damn it! Don’t you lie to me! I am the Almighty God of Hellfire and I can rain down more furious vengeance upon you than you could possibly imagine! Did you get a gift shop trashed?”

Doug shook his head. “Step off my jock, Jack. Its longer than you can handle and you’re going to trip over if if you aren’t careful.”

The Chief’s nostril’s flared. “Did you get a gift shop trashed?”

Doug folded his arms. “You won’t get nothing out of me.”

The Chief inhaled a deep breath, exhaled, then roared, “Did you get a gift shop trashed?”

Doug caved. “You’re goddamn right I got a gift shop trashed!”

“I knew it,” the Chief said. “Thousands of dollars worth of damage. Hundreds of toys missing. Countless employees traumatized.  ”

“You have the audacity to charge me with keeping this park safe and then question the way I do it?” Doug said. “Oh look at you, you hypocritical son of a bitch. You sit in here all high and mighty in your fancy office with your female talk shows and your exotic coffees and you like to think you’re better than I am, but deep down we both know that you want a man like me out there in the shit, you need a man like me out there in the shit, this park could not operate for a single second without me out there in the shit.”

“You’re on thin ice, Crocker,” the Chief said. “And you’re talking like a man wearing a pair of razor sharp ice skates. You know its wrong to get company property destroyed, just admit it.”

“I admit nothing,” Doug said. “ Jessica Flynn was stuffed into a Willy Wombat costume without a single second of training and thrown to those tiny wolves. She was one more kick from a toddler’s shoe away from being done. Over. Finished. Kaput. She’d of been a goner if I hadn’t done something but instead of thanking me and putting a nice letter in my file you want to mount my ass on your wall just to make your corporate overlords happy.”

“I’ve had enough of that insubordinate lip, Crocker,” the Chief said as he held out his hand. “Turn over your whistle.”

Doug’s face turned white. “What?”

“You’re suspended,” the Chief said. “Two weeks without pay.”

“Aw come on,” Doug said.

“You want to try for three?”

Doug took the whistle that was hanging around his neck off and slapped it down in the Chief’s hand.

“And your badge,” the Chief said.

A tear trickled out of Doug’s eye as he looked down at the shiny silver wombat shaped badge pinned to his chest. “Come on, Chief.”

“You’re a disgrace to this poorly paid private security organization,” the Chief said. “I won’t have you wearing our revered symbol a on your worthless chest a second longer.”

The Chief reached over the desk and ripped the badge right off of Doug’s shirt, leaving a hole in the fabric behind.

Doug’s face shriveled up. It was as if a piece of his soul was ripped away with that wombat shaped badge.

“Go straight to your car,” the Chief said. “Go home and think long and hard about what you have done.”

“Chief,” Doug said. “My partner’s out there.”

“He’s not your partner,” the Chief said.

“Earl is the best and also only officer I’ve ever worked with that didn’t request a transfer to get away from me,” Doug said. “And he’s not answering his radio.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Crocker,” the Chief said. “Besides, its not your problem anymore. Get the hell outta here or I’ll call the actual cops and have them throw you out.”

Doug got up and walked away while muttering, “We’ll see about that.”

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#31WaysToDefeatAVampire – Way #18 – Ukulele Music

By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire

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Honestly, 3.5 readers.

What is a ukulele?

Bleh! Is it a real instrument? Is it more than just a tiny, shrunken guitar?  How do you play one of those things?

Vampires are not into ukuleles at all.  We will never attend your luau.

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#31ZombieAuthors Rewind – Day 18 – Deirdre Gould – Maine Prepping and Self-Publishing

With Your Guest Host: Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian

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Hello again, 3.5 readers.

Fancy meeting you here on a blog that is read by only 3.5 people.

Suppose you were turned into a zombie and then….you were cured!

Happy day!

But wait.  Now you have to come to terms with all those brains you ate.

What happens after a zombie apocalypse?

BQB asked Deirdre Gould about that last year.

Check out that interview here.

And don’t forget to check out The 40th Day, the latest book in the After the Cure series on Amazon.

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