insanepoet9:

Whack!

I killed my first zombie at 9:08 PM on a Saturday night with a broom. I imagined that killing one would feel a lot cooler, like I’d become Ellen Ripley and turn into this badass. That wasn’t the case. I was still the same nerdy girl, just with a broom.

“Wow, that was cool.”

If there’s anyone you want to get stuck with in a zombie apocalypse, it’s someone like Alex Schaal. He was gangly, had blond hair and wire-rimmed glasses, and was holding a golf club (Where did he get a golf club inside a McDonald’s?). I had about six classes with him and this was probably the longest conversation we ever had.

“Thanks,” I said to him, hiding the fact I was trembling holding a broom because I almost died. “Hey, do you smell that?”

Alex sniffed the air. I looked closer at the zombie I killed and realized that it wasn’t oozing blood or zombie guts. It was oozing…

“Chocolate syrup?” I asked and he nodded.

“I always knew McDonald’s had something going on with that chocolate sauce,” he said breathlessly, still clutching the golf club in his hand like he was about to hit someone else.

I glanced over at the McDonald’s. I’d never seen a McDonald’s that was just empty at eight at night. There was always one person in the dining area eating a cheeseburger or a screaming kid who finally got their freaking Happy Meal. The fact the lights were off and the only two people in here were Alex and me made it more eerie than the fact there were chocolate zombies.

“I’m never eating here again.”

“I never ate here in the first place,” Alex said, “I’m more of a Burger King guy.”

A loud thunk reverberated through the restaurant. We stood behind the counter where the employees usually worked. You know, before everyone began dying.

We heard knocking again. I clutched the broom I had grabbed from the supply closet when we first ran into McDonald’s after the zombies chased us. I guess this is what happens when I try making friendly conversation in a parking lot.

With our golf club and broom in hand, we headed toward the noise.

“Alex?”

“Priya?”

“Why are we heading toward the scary thumping noise?”

“Someone could be stuck there, Priya.”

“Oh…kay.” I gripped my broom tighter.

When Alex opened the freezer door, a guy wearing a McDonald’s uniform stumbled out.

“Help…me…” the guy started to say, his face looking a little gray. I held the broom closer to me but Alex let his guard down.

And that was when the McDonald’s Worker from the Freezer jumped on Alex.

“Shit!” Alex yelled, “I’m too skinny for this!”

I grabbed Alex’s golf club and, with probably more luck than actual skill, I hit the McDWftF (why didn’t I just look at his name tag?). Alex scrambled away from the body, which smelled much less like chocolate syrup than the last guy.

“GRAB HIS HEAD! GRAB HIS HEAD!” I yelled as I took McDWftF, whose name tag said his name was Brian, by the feet. He took Brian and he dragged him into the fridge while I pushed him in.

“Poor Brian.”

“He’s probably going to go full zombie in there right now,” Alex said holding his hand out. I was about to take his hand before I realized he probably meant his gold club.

“So! You play golf?”

“Not really,” Alex responded taking his club. A conversationalist. Lovely.

“Okay, cool. So, um, full zombie?”

“Yeah, they don’t become zombies instantly,” he looked down at his hand, “I am never letting go of this. Brian really got me.”

“I feel like I need something better than a broom,” I said.

“It’s okay. You just need the wart and maybe we can paint your face green.”

“I’m sure the Shamrock shake stuff isn’t mutated.”

“Not so sure about that.”

He smiled at me. He was cute, even if he was a little awkward. And had a golf club for no reason.

Okay, Priya. Go for it. The world is ending and the chocolate makes people zombies. Not even in the consumerist way people say it does.

I nudged him with my shoulder and he nudged me back. He looked over at me. I realized his eyes had a little green in them. As his lips touched mine, I opened my mouth. I expected my first kiss to taste like breath mints or sunshine and rainbows.

It tasted like chocolate syrup.

 

It might be the 12 year old scotch and the tin of wintergreen mints I just finished off ––maybe even the cookies and the ‘con queso from earlier, but I love this and would very much like to read more. Were it a movie, it would be worth the ticket. 

Source: insanepoet9

6zombies, mcdonalds, fiction,