Brains for the
Zombie Soul
a parody
Nearly 101 Heartwarming
and Inspirational Stories
Celebrating the Differently Animated
Michelle Hartz, Ph.Z.
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Michelle Hartz
All rights reserved. Published 2012.
“Ph.Z.” and “Philosopher of Zombieology” from “Ace Your Zombie Exam!: The Official Ph.Z. Study Guide” Copyright 2011 David P. Murphy
“Zombie Rights Campaign” Copyright 2008-2011 by the Zombie Rights Campaign, under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 United States License.
The ZRC is not affiliated with the Human Rights Campaign in any way, shape or form, and we applaud their goal to bring basic human rights to, you know, basic human beings. We just want to do the same for those human beings who happen to be undead. Any similarities to the HRC are intended as parody, and really, if the folks in charge of the HRC can’t take a joke then I guess they’re just lucky that people don’t go to the movies to watch THEM get hacked to pieces by chainsaws and cricket bats.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or in between, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is also in print at most online retailers.
Information on ordering additional copies of this book available online at www.hartzdesign.com.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Introduction
Share With Us
Family
The Meaning of Family
A Trip to the Mall
The Homeless Aunt
A Boy and His Dog
Found At Sea
Zombie Mom
Mother and Child
Graduation
Friends & Enemies
The Unemployment Line
Operation Reanimation
A Soldier Back from War
Carrying Groceries
Reservation in the Desert
Prophettown
The Neighbors
Movie Star
Zombies and Geeks
Slaves
Zombie Dungeon
Idleness Brings Want
First Day of School
On the Front Lines
Friends and Enemies
A Christmas Miracle
Love
Just Another Bum
Ronaldo and Julia
The Locket
Lost Lovers
Grande Caramel Latte
Sweet Justice
Fine China
Trimming the Tree
Easter at Church
Switching Sides
Slave
Strangers
Hollywood
Not A Snow Day
Hope Lies with the Children
The Diner
Home for the Differently Animated
Advertising
Bonnie’s Bears
The Hospital Room
Cookies
Playing Guitar on the Beach
Plantation Owner
Zoo
Amusement Park
Jumper
Christmas Necklace
Lost Kitten
No Swimming
Quite A Pair
Family Movie Night
African School
Celebrations
Death Day
The Wake
Obituary
Valentine’s Day
Zombie Man and Zombie Wife
A Zombie Christmas
Thanksgiving
4th of July
Overcoming Limitations
Daisy Plazas
Zombie Auto Werks
Scholarship
True Bravery
The Triathlon
Football Team
Super Zombie!
Scrooged
Marathon
Classics
The Little Zombie
Fairy Zombie
The Two Princes
Cinderella
All the King’s Horses
The Tortoise and the Hare
The Three Little Zombies
Sleeping Beauty
The Three Zombies
Undead Chicken Little
About the Zombie Rights Campaign
About the Author
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Acknowledgements
I originally came up with the concept for this book in September of 2009 after attending a zombie party. I went in disguise and I think I was accepted by the zombies there. At the same time, I was introduced to the Zombie Rights Campaign and my mind was opened to the troubles of the differently animated.
With that in mind, I would like to thank the following people:
Karen and Noah for all their help with editing. This little acknowledgement can not show how much I appreciate it. Also Andrew, Sarah, David, Josh, Audrey, Elizabeth, Jessica, and Dan for reading and giving me feedback.
The crew and volunteers at National Novel Writing Month, for actually getting me off my butt and writing books. Now I’m addicted to writing novels every November.
My fabulous NaNoWriMo writing group for all of their support, including Sarah, Andrew, Leandra, John, Karen, Nate, Beth, Rosie, Stephen, Leigha, Loretta, Avery, Liza, Casey, and everyone else that came to my write ins.
A special thank you to my good friend and NaNoWriMo buddy Audrey James, for feeding me, showing me movies, taking me to drag shows, boozing me up, and just keeping me motivated in general.
Basement Boy, Woody, Doctor Calamari, and Baron Mardi from Atomic Age Cinema, and the organizers of Dark Carnival, who arranged the zombie party that started me on this journey.
John, Jenny and the rest of the staff at the Zombie Rights Campaign for their great work at making the world a better place for the differently animated.
My sister for her unwavering faith in me, and for being generally sisterly, cool, and awesome.
And finally to my sexy, intelligent and wonderfully supportive husband, also known as Liquid Braino, for making sure I did things like eat and sleep in, and not do things like play video games when I should be writing. And for keeping my cuppa Zombie Brew full.
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Introduction
No matter how many brains you consume, it will never satisfy the soul.
Upon looking through the shelves of the local bookstore, it is hard to find any literature that doesn’t vilify the undead. A work that caters to them exclusively is rare indeed.
The stories within are intended to stir passion into the reader. Here are stories of love, of anger, and of perseverance. Hopefully, they will inspire you to overcome the difficulties you face in everyday life, and warm your heart, whether or not it still beats.
Enjoy this book like a fine wine and the grapes it’s made from, crushed, killed, then brought back to life. Read this like a wine tasting, sample different types of stories, some as sweet as brains, some as dry as an aged zombie’s skin.
Speaking of brains, no, not a
ll zombies eat brains. The dietary needs of zombies are just as varied as the dietary needs of the living. While some require brains to survive, many could care less for them.
If there is one thing to take away from this book, it is that the differently animated are as diverse as the living. For the zombies reading, I hope this book will serve as a companion to you and perhaps make you feel less alone.
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Share With Us
This is only a small compilation of stories that depict the differently animated in a good light. Zombies do good deeds and overcome adversity on a daily basis, permanently changing the lives they touch.
We want to hear your stories. They are out there, and the zombies need to be heard. Please send us your stories for consideration in future editions.
We hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as we enjoy sharing them.
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Family
The Meaning of Family
The Rhabdoviridae Orthomyxoviridate virus outbreak broke many families apart.
Before scientists knew the true properties of the “zombie virus,” the public’s ignorance led to disaster. People who found themselves forced into this new unlife couldn’t cope, and neither could their friends and family.
Marriages were broken up, citing “until death do us part” as a condition to terminate the marital contract. Spouses were no longer welcome into their own households.
Child Protective Services declared zombies unfit parents. Children were taken away from zombie parents. If even one parent was a zombie, the household was deemed unfit for children.
Not even zombie children were tolerated. They were disowned by their parents, left to fend for themselves on the streets.
A rash of murders spread all over the country, and soon all over the world. Zombie hunters made it their mission to rid the earth of zombies. They had support from the people, who saw it as the only way to stop the zombie outbreak. Zombies of any age, race, or creed would be killed on sight. Even innocent people got caught in the crossfire if they resembled a zombie in any way. The general consensus was that the sacrifices were needed for the good of the whole. The senseless killing of living people affected the beggars and homeless the most, so the people were able to justify it to themselves.
The bloodshed wasn’t limited to the streets. Husbands and wives bashed in the heads of their zombie spouses. Parents mercifully (or so they thought) severed the heads from their children. Even parishioners brought guns into church to “cleanse” the congregation on Sunday mornings.
Misinformation spread about how the zombie virus was transmitted, and citizens didn’t even want to enter buildings that had previously had zombies in them. Towns were destroyed and hospitals burnt.
The zombies fled from the towns in a mass exodus and set up camps in unpopulated areas in which they could defend themselves.
Meanwhile, finally science was making progress. Researchers discovered that there was nothing to fear from zombieism, although allaying the fears of the general public was harder. Nevertheless, humanitarian groups sprung up to help the zombies with their special needs.
This is the climate that created the zombie and living segregated society. In the safety of their own communities, zombies were able to live almost normal lives.
A young housewife named Kristen, who had contracted the virus, took her husband’s ostracization of her hard. She spent the days in the local zombie camp in tears. She slept, ate, and drank only so she could have the strength to continue crying.
Then a handsome but gentle young man named Rodney came into the reservation. He had been turned into a zombie right before his wedding day. He helped Kristen to see that she was still the same, loving person she had always been.
Slowly but surely, Rodney and Kristen fell in love. Rodney convinced Kristen to divorce her husband. Although it wasn’t necessary - their marriage had already been annulled as it would be an illegal union of the living and undead - it gave her the closure she needed.
A year later, they got married under the willow tree in the newly created park in their zombie community. Kristen made a beautiful bride. Soon after, they adopted two lovely children, a girl and a boy.
The girl, Susan, was only seven years old when she was forced to flee from her father and her home. Now she had a permanent wound in her shoulder from where her father had been aiming for her head and missed. In her new community, with her new family, she was able to be a typical little girl again.
They also adopted an eighteen month old little boy named John. His mother had simply thrown him away with the compost. Although his mind was still learning and developing, he would always have the body of a baby. Kristen’s maternal instincts helped him deal with his special needs.
That is how in light of the dark days after the virus outbreak, zombies gradually formed normal lives for themselves again.
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A Trip to the Mall
I hated the mall. I am usually a quiet, reserved person. I don’t like to be in crowds, and I don’t like enclosed areas without windows.
My husband doesn’t like the idea of malls. He’s an advocate of independent businesses, so he doesn’t like the corporate atmosphere that a mall creates.
My son loves malls. He’s only seven, and he wants to go into every store that has toys, lights, things that move, or shiny objects. While he’s normally a good kid and great at holding hands when we go out, the over-stimulation of the mall usually overrides his obedience filter and his natural curiosity takes over.
My brother is a lower functioning zombie who normally lives in a home for the differently animated. He received a blow to the head when he was killed, which has affected his IQ. When we take him out, although he enjoys himself, we often get complaints from other people about his presence.
My mother would just rather stay home and knit. She lost the desire for interaction with large groups of people a long time ago.
So naturally, when we all got together for my brother’s death day, I proposed we load into the car and go to the mall. I picked the first place that came to mind where we could all go together without having to buy a meal and where we could actually talk to each other (as opposed to keeping silent in a movie theater). I hadn’t considered how miserable we would all be.
Somehow, we stuck with it. We had spent all day at the mall, and all of us were getting tired and cranky. It was really just a matter of time before one of us broke.
When my son ran away from our group towards the pet store and knocked a bag out of a woman’s hand, it was my final straw. “Stop,” I yelled at him. “Look what you did. How could you be so rude? Apologize to these people.”
Embarrassed, his cheeks got all red, and he stared down at his Transformers tennis shoes. “I didn’t raise my son to be so rude. You apologize now!” I demanded.
“It’s okay,” said the couple. “No harm done.”
“No!” I said. “He needs to learn more respect and to apologize to people he has inconvenienced.”
“Honey,” said my husband. “Let’s take care of this out in the car.”
“If this isn’t addressed now, how will he learn?” I said, my rage still boiling.
My mom, behind me, made tut-tutting sounds. Other shoppers stared at us as they passed. I was making a scene.
My brother stepped up, and put an arm around me. “It’s okay, sis. Have peace.”
When I looked at him, my anger dissipated. Here was a man who should know everything about rage. Didn’t people say that zombies were always angry? I thought so myself before my brother’s accident. Now I knew how much the same they are as when they were living.
I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” I said to the couple.
Then I bent down to his level and said to my son, “I’m sorry. What you did was an accident, and although you should still apologize, what I did was even ruder. And I didn’t mean
to be so mean to you. Do you forgive me?” He nodded and gave me a hug.
Before he even broke the hug, he looked up at the couple and said, sincerely, “I’m sorry.”
The lady said, “That’s okay. We forgive you,” and smiled at him.
The man turned to my brother and said, “Thank you. I’m finding that zombies are so much nicer than the living, despite what they say.”
My brother, with a big smile, gave the man a huge hug and said, “You’re welcome!”
I thought, “Uh oh,” and held my breath, but the man gave my brother a big hug back.
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The Homeless Aunt
One crisp autumn Thursday evening, right after I got home from a particularly hard day of work, there was a knock on my door. I stopped preparing the kids’ after school snack to answer it.
To my surprise, I opened the door to find my aunt looking haggard and carrying a full but worn out backpack with a broken strap. Her clothes were dirty and ripped, and I thought I saw open wounds underneath. She was pale, and her threadbare scarf did little to hide the fatal gash in her neck.
“Come in, come in,” I said. “I’m just fixing a snack for the children. Would you join me in the kitchen? Can I interest you in a cup of coffee?”
“That would be wonderful,” she said and followed me inside.
After getting the kids settled with “ants on a log,” (celery with peanut butter inside and raisins on top) and an after school special, I sat down at the table to join my aunt with a cup of coffee. “How have you been?” I asked.
“Actually, I’ve been better,” she said.
I cut her a piece of leftover coffee cake, settled in my chair, and said, “I’m here to listen.”
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