Wordzzle 83 - Exit, laughing

This is my contribution to this week's Wordzzle. Wordzzle is a game in which each week word lists, used to create stories, are given on the blog Views from Raven's Nest. Participating users post their stories on their own blogs.

This is my entry number 27, for Wordzzle week 83.


Ten Word Challenge:

family,
cheese cake,
20 years ago,
refrigerator,
laugh and the world laughs with you,
bath brush,
zombies,
African violets,
butterflies,
holding hands

"Laugh and the world laughs with you, unless you're a zombie."

"What do they do then?"

"Generally scream and run away, or try to kill me or both."

"That sounds pretty bad."

"Yes. And it doesn't seem to matter what I do. One time I even asked a lady very nicely if I could borrow her bath brush. She screamed and fainted and slid under the water. I had to drag her out. Then when she woke up and saw that we were holding hands, she fainted again. I tried bringing her cheese cake and African violets to make amends. It didn't make any difference."

"Why cheese cake?"

"I knew she liked it and it reminds me of, um, brains. Being soft and squishy. And delicious. Not that I'd eat hers, you understand. Or anyone else's. Really."

"Hmph. How did you know she likes cheese cake?"

"I've, um, known her from before. Before I became... zombified"

"I see."

"It was 20 years ago, and she's not getting any younger. I felt I had to do something pretty soon. You don't age after you're a zombie, but you do, um, ripen a bit."

"Yes."

"Well, I guess I've said all I need to say. I just needed someone to talk to, to listen to me. Someone I could get some opinions from, you know, pick their brains for a while. That's a zombie joke. Sorry. I'm afraid I do have to do something to you before I leave, though."

"I have a family who depends on me and who loves me very much."

"Relax, Doc. I'm just going to put the gag back. Can't have you screaming or yelling for help after I'm gone. I'm sure you'll eventually work your way out of the duct tape. If not, well, the janitor will discover you sooner or later.

"I really can't spend any more time here. I've got her waiting out in the car. In the trunk. With lots of duct tape. She's still alive, of course. I couldn't bear to kill her.

"I have to finish gathering the ingredients for the zombie potion. I have some of the ingredients stored in her refrigerator already, behind things. Then I'll force her to drink it. It's a little bitter, but not too bad. You get some butterflies in your stomach, and then you drift away. Things seem kind of dreamlike for a while, maybe for years, but then they slowly sharpen up again. You're never the same as before, though, never the same.

"Well, I really must get going. Perhaps I'll stop back and let you meet her in a few years, after things have, um, settled down. Perhaps you'll even want to join us. No? Well, think about it. Eternal life and all that. Well, life of a sort. As long as an angry villager doesn't set you ablaze or blow you to pieces. I can wait till your children are grown, and then you and your wife can join us. Still no? Well, you'll have plenty of time to think about it. Don't wait too long, though. It's better being young, even if you're a zombie. I'll check back every few years, anyway.

"It's been a fun talk. Fun for me, at least. You look like something's eating you. Sorry. Another zombie joke. You know what they say, leave 'em laughing.

"You're not laughing now, but you will later. Trust me."


Mini Challenge:

monsters in the closet,
roughly,
bowling,
menu,
Pennsylvania

The monsters in the closet were getting restless. I knew I shouldn't have taken them bowling. Now they wanted to get out and do things all the time. They had a great time at the bowling alley, gnawing on the balls and then rolling themselves down the lane to knock the pins over. The owner didn't want us back, which was just as well because none of the bowling shoes fit them. I couldn't take them back there, but any other place would probably be a one-time event, too. I could just see taking them out to dinner, and them peering intently at the menu and then eating it. I thought about stuffing them in a box and mailing them somewhere far away, maybe Pennsylvania (the Liberty Bell's already cracked, they can't blame it on them), but it would probably be deemed a suspicious package, with it vibrating and jumping around. They'd probably gnaw through it at some point, too.

The closet door shook, and I could hear a strange sound, like something being repeated over and over again. The door shook again and then flew open, and they were all around me, jostling me roughly and chanting, "Bowling alley! Bowling alley!"

"I'm sorry, boys, they won't let us in anymore."

"No! Go out! Go out!"

They started marching around me, randomly throwing themselves at me. "Go out! Go out! Go out!"

I found myself repeating them, "Go out, go out, go out..."

I became aware that I was alone. Or rather, not quite alone. From somewhere I felt their eyes looking out, watching. I picked a plate up off the table and bit off a section, then chewed it up and swallowed it. It wasn't bad at all. I giggled for a bit, then slowly composed myself. I needed to look a little more normal, this time.

I turned and headed for the door, then, grinning in spite of myself. Time to go bowling.


Mega challenge:

family,
cheese cake,
20 years ago,
refrigerator,
laugh and the world laughs with you,
bath brush,
zombies,
African violets,
butterflies,
holding hands

monsters in the closet,
roughly,
bowling,
menu,
Pennsylvania

I went to the grave and dug it up again. The family was still there, as they had been 20 years ago, and in all the times I had checked in between. They showed a surprisingly low amount of deterioration. I had long ago determined that they weren't vampires, simply by holding a small mirror up to each one and checking to see if there was a reflection. There always was. They seemed unlikely to be zombies, either, as none of them moved unless I moved them. Their eyes still looked at me, though. Not accusingly, but more like they were measuring me up. Like they were waiting. Although this was Pennsylvania and not Transylvania, I'm not sure how important location was to these things. Something sure seemed to be going on here.

I stared at them. Could something still inhabit them, some semblance of soul, perhaps? By any normal measure, they should be as dead as a stone. They felt somewhat higher, though, somewhere on the line from bowling balls to bath brushes to butterflies. If butterflies could be said to have a dark side, that is.

I continued to stare at them. I had been out here so many times. If I put them back, I knew I would be out here again, digging them up. I just couldn't stand the thought anymore. I was just too weary of it.

I finally put them all in the car. I handled them a little more roughly than I should have, and more roughly than I had intended to, but no one complained. I still felt guilty, though, and apologized for it. I felt a certain amount of understanding from them, but not necessarily forgiveness.

When I arrived at the house, I took them inside but still wasn't sure what to do with them. I finally put them in chairs around the kitchen table. I thought about arranging them so they were holding hands, but I couldn't stand the thought. It would seem like they were united against me.

I sat down at the table and stared at them. They stared back, like they were waiting for me to speak. I wasn't sure what to say in a situation like this, and I wasn't sure that words could really make it all better.

I got up and paced for a bit, while they sat there, waiting. I would probably have to do something with them, put them someplace else. I wasn't sure I wanted them watching me, and it might be awkward having company over. Not that I had much company these days.

I supposed that I could store them somewhere. They were too big for the refrigerator, and they weren't in any case something I wanted to find next to the cheese cake. I could put them in the closet. That's where I had them in the old days, before they were buried. But although I could never really forget about them, it was always a jolt to find them there, always a reminder, my own personal monsters in the closet. That's why I finally buried them in the first place.

It might be better to actually have them in the open. Maybe I could put them on the couch, next to the window with the African violets. That sounded more cheery. I could keep an eye on them there. And they could keep an eye on me.

I sat back down again and stared at them. They waited, expectantly. It was past dinner time, and I should probably offer them something. I wasn't sure I had anything they would eat, though. I couldn't think of anything on the menu I would like myself.

I almost felt like laughing, but the thought of it brought on some sadness. Laugh and the world laughs with you, but if no one laughs you can die on stage. Die too many times and it's all over.

Although I had tried to bury the dead, I had forgotten that we had all died, and so I couldn't escape the feeling that we were somehow linked. The memories from the old days also lent a kind of life-in-death to them, and perhaps also to me.

I picked one up and looked at it. It's eyes stared back at me, waiting. I put my hand in its back and made the mouth and the eyes move, and made the voice speak.

"You sure took long enough."

I looked at the others. They seemed to nod in agreement, and from an unseen audience came the sound of ancient laughter.