The plan was to leave this place because food and ink were running low and Dr. Bliffover had convinced us that if we could find a lab, he could study Klaus, our half and half human, and come up with a cure. The Times had a great resource department, but the maps of the building drawn by a former one-legged ballerina, who later spun herself to death, just led us around in circles, so it took us half the morning to find it. There we discovered the locations of several nearby labs and decided to go to the one closest to an adult video store. Hey, after looking at Mander for more than five minutes we males needed something to keep our minds from accidentally drifting her way during an apocalyptic sexual fantasy where we died of fright at the end.
The plan was simple, load us up in a few newspaper trucks and if the street got clogged we’d use the band to clear a path. We also loaded each truck with plenty of Sunday editions in case we needed to flatten any zombies who got too close.
It only took an hour or so to load up the trucks, the Times’ workers union met and stated that they were off the clock so there was no need to drag things out. We left through the rear loading bay and didn’t run over a zombie until we made it to the street. I wish I could say that about the Times’ worker who was changing the oil.
By the time we reached the street there were hundreds of zombies, so in order to clear some space, we opened the windows and rear door so the band could scare them away. That’s when we realized a small over sight. The bands instruments were left on the street, when they ran for the Times’ building. Unfortunately for a few band members we had prepared ourselves for their musician ship and were wore earplugs. We didn’t notice they weren’t holding instruments until a few guys playing the air trombone and air tubas were pulled from the truck. Luckily what was left of the marching band realized that they also weren’t holding instruments and started tossing Sunday Times at the zombies, then closed the back door and pelted the monsters from the windows.
Laura Lee, a quick thinker, but not very diplomatic, shouted, “Let’s put the ugly broad on the hood like a freak show ornament.
Mander wasn’t pleased about that, “Hey, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”
Skim Milk growled, “If the guy who made that statement took one look at you he’d scoop his eyes out.”
“Beauty is also only skin deep.” Mander said, as tear snaked around the crags on her face.
Laura Lee countered, “They could dissect you and they wouldn’t find one cell that wouldn’t crack the lens on a microscope.”
“She does have a good point there, whatever it was.” Dr. Bliffover stated while I tried to remember if that was his name.
Skim Milk warmed up to the challenge. “I’m a Lesbo who’s slept with some toothless inbred horse face hillbilly bull dykes and I’d jump on the biggest ugliest cockeyed uncircumcised gorilla rather dick than touch you.”
Even Shrimp gave the insults a whirl. “Yeah, if a clock had your face on it, it would stop time and make it go backwards.”
I’m sure Mander had many other beauty quotes she wanted to say in her own defense but only got as far as “You can’t judge a book by –”before we wrangled her and then tossed her onto the hood, I’m pretty sure it was face first.
The zombies immediately backed away covering their eyes, including the eyeballs lying loose on the ground. Some threw up. It was working. Even zombies have their limit.
It was touch and go at times; we had to drive fast and make quick turns without Mander falling off the hood. I think at one point she was getting into it, enjoying seeing zombies try to form the word “Ugly,” but not able to pronounce it.
The entire trip took less than twenty minutes. Mander had scared the zombies so far away there weren’t any in sight when we made it to the lab. We all congratulated Mander, keeping our backs toward her face. I saw her reflection in a shattered window and I think she looked proud or radioactive. I asked her to stand guard while I took orders and headed for the adult video store. I took a large almost machete size knife into the store in case there were any like-minded zombies browsing the dead girl section. The others unloaded the vehicles and carefully entered the building through the revolving door -- checking for zombies and loose lab rats. Laura Lee was deathly afraid of rats. At the diner, before the zombie invasion, she told me she once went to a Halloween party dressed as a hunk of Swiss cheese and got caught by a guy dressed as a mousetrap and then was assaulted by three guys dressed as white lab rats. Luckily a guy, dressed as a needle and his brother, dressed like a scientist, subdued the rats. But by then Laura Lee said she was traumatized and to this day won’t go out wearing a yellow dress that had even buttonholes in it.