“What was it?” Heather asked.
“Not much.” Douchebagga shrugged. “Just a strain of every different venereal disease known to man.”
Drag’s eye widened as he nearly choked on his drink. He coughed several time before spewing a blast of tequila and smoke all over Douchebagga. He wiped his wet jowls with his paw and eyed her with derision. “I hope you’ve got condoms.”
When the king’s royal trumpeters sounded their horns behind them, they all turned to see a small army of guards marching in their direction.
One of the royal ass kissers, who’d been following alongside the guards, walked up to Barth while unrolling a parchment.
“Barthalamew Huganut the Tenth,” he called in a rather stentorian tone, even though he was standing only a few feet away from Barth.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Barth puffed up his chest. “The Royal Zombie Slayer.” It was about time the king sent for him. After all the work he’d done saving most of the kingdom from a zombie virus, he’d been waiting for King Dump to bestow praise and riches.
The ass kisser cleared his throat. “By order of the king, I hereby place you under arrest.”
“W-what?” Barth stammered. “I saved his whole fucking town from a zombie curse.” His voice faltered as his gaze swept the eerily quiet village.
Several discarded brainless corpses littered the streets. Many of the cottages and businesses had been reduced to smoldering piles of ash, probably from when Drag went on a zombie rampage. Worst of all, the overpowering smell of dead, rotten lake monster permeated the air, making breathing rather unbearable.
“Well.” Barth scratched the back of his head while shuffling his feet. “I saved at least thirty-percent to maybe half of the kingdom’s subjects. Why would the king want to arrest me?”
The ass kisser arched a brow. “Contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
“Huh?”
The ass kisser looked down at the scroll and read aloud. “Force-feeding The Artist Formerly Known as The Prince, copious amounts of ale.”
“Oh,” Drag snickered, “they got you there, Barth.”
* * *
The insanity in the royal courtroom was nearly as chaotic as the time Barth tried to feed the zombies gooey cake or like that other time Barth didn’t make it to the crowded Tijuana bathroom stall in time. He’d leaked a trail of shit all over the floor. Some even managed to splatter on the sides of the walls and then fill up the sink. Or maybe he’d squatted over the sink because the stalls were full. He really didn’t remember much from that night. All he remembered was that he was basically knee-deep in shit, kinda like he was right now.
“There he is.” Cindy Rella climbed on top of a bench and pointed an accusing finger at Barth. “He murdered my step-sister.”
Barth rolled his eyes before yelling across the courtroom. “She was trying to eat my brains.”
After being prodded by the guard behind him, Barth shuffled his feet forward, toward the gilded judge’s bench. Sitting behind the bench was a rather pissed off looking King Dump, dressed in a black robe and sporting a white wig, which sat on his head at an odd angle.
Barth swallowed a lump in his throat when his gaze met the king’s. Somehow, he had the feeling he wasn’t about to get a fair trial.
A villager rushed forward, carrying in her weathered and dirty hands the elongated, bloody neck of a large goose. She turned and wagged the goose neck in front of the king. “Look at what he did to my golden goose. She was my main source of revenue. Now I have to go back to selling crack.”
As Barth made his way toward the king, he was grateful guards flanked him on either side. He’d never been flogged with a goose appendage before, and though he knew some of the villagers were into that kind of weird shit, he was certain that under these circumstances, it wouldn’t feel good.
“Your goose bit me.” He pulled down his collar, exposing the swollen, red gash on his shoulder. “Look at the mark.”
“You didn’t have to slay so many of us,” a talking frog croaked from a nearby seat.
“Order!” The king called while slamming a golden gavel on his golden bench. “Order in the court.”
After a hush fell about the courtroom, the king glared at his subjects. “All peasants will remain quiet or will be forced to leave. Besides, this trial isn’t about
your
problems,” he sneered.
“Who cares about your decapitated and rotting family members when I have an emotionally disturbed and unsightly son?”
“Thanks, King Dump,” Barth said while adjusting his collar.
The king met him with a stony glare before clearing his throat. “My men found my son floating in the lake like a giant stuffed prune. It will be days before the wizard can drain all of the fat potion and lake water out of him,” he ended on a choked sob.
Waves of anger washed through Barth’s skull. The ungrateful, selfish bastard! If it hadn’t been for Barth, the whole town would still be brain-eating ghouls. And if it hadn’t been for King Dump and his interfering son, the people would have been saved a lot sooner.
Barth tilted his chin and leveled a glare of his own on the king. “Frankly, King Dump, I really don’t give a shit about your spoiled, selfish brat. He got what he had coming to him.”
The king’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You’ve been charged with unlawfully forcing a minor to consume alcohol. How do you plead?”
Barth threw up his hands. “I was trying to save the God-Dammed kingdom!”
“I’ll take that as a guilty plea.” The king slammed his gavel on the bench. “You are hereby sentenced to banishment. From this day forward, you are not allowed to set foot in Fairytale Kingdom ever again.”
“What the fuck?” Barth spat.
Then everyone looked up as the unmistakable sound of large, flapping wings was heard through the ceiling.
The entire courtroom ceiling shattered. Fairytale creatures screamed and ducked for cover as shards of wood and plaster fell to the ground. Barth dove under the king’s bench and waited for the debris to settle. Beside him, the king whimpered like a baby. He’d lost his wig, exposing a really bad comb-over, which was probably meant to conceal a thinning hairline. Barth realized the ugly hair pieces were actually an improvement. He searched around for the king’s wig and slapped it back on his head.
After most of the debris had settled, Barth stood, not surprised to see his best friend brushing dust off his satin and scales. Drag’s massive body took up the entire center of the courtroom. Bright beams of light from the newly formed skylight illuminated drywall particles that floated in the air.
The king popped up and climbed on top of the bench. His white wig, now a dusty gray, was pushed over his brow. He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Drag. “How dare you disrupt my courtroom!”
Drag scowled. With a flick of one talon, he sent the king careening across the floor. He turned toward Barth and arched a penciled brow. “Need any help?”
Barth hung his head in shame. “I’ve just been banished, Drag.”
Drag’s laugh shook the walls with jarring tremors. One wall crumbled to dust, leaving three remaining walls which also looked ready to topple. After his laughter died down, the dragon wiped his eyes with the points of his talons and fixed Barth with a comical expression. “We were going to ditch this town, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know.” Barth shrugged. “It would have been nice to get a little reward for my heroics, that’s all.”
Heather popped up from behind Drag’s back. She climbed down the rope ladder and rushed forward, embracing Barth in a tight hug. “I already said I’d reward you, Barth,” she whispered into his ear.
Barth wrapped one arm around her waist while wiping a smudge of drywall off her nose. “But, Heather, I have to leave Fairytale Kingdom.”
“I know,” she said breathlessly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Barth.”
Everyone in the courtroom cringed at the sound of Douchebagga’s grating cackle. She descended on her broom and landed beside Drag. “Don’t forget me. I’m coming, too,” she screeched as she dismounted.
Drag’s jowls turned a heavy frown as he eyed her with a look of disdain. Her Kim Khardashian body was gone, and the hideous, ugly, warty witch was back in her place.
“Douchebagga?” Heather gasped as she jerked out of Barth’s embrace. “What happened to you?”
The old lady’s shoulder’s fell, and her floppy tits knocked around a bit with the movement. “My slutty juice potion wore off, but I’ve got more brewing. It will be ready in a few months.” She looked up at Drag while batting her eyes. “Do you still love me?”
“Uhhhh.” Drag tapped his painted lips with a long talon. “I’m thinking not.”
Douchebagga’s jaw fell open. “You only loved me for my beauty, didn’t you?”
“Duh.” Drag cocked a paw on his hip. “And the wardrobe. I’ll send you a forwarding address and you can ship the shoes and dresses, okay?”
The witch’s gnarled lip trembled as her eyes welled over with tears. “Wahhhh!”
Drag fixed Barth with an impatient look while nodding toward the sky. “Ready, buddy?”
“Ready.” Barth said as he climbed aboard Drag and Heather settled behind him. He inwardly smiled as Heather wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled against his back. He didn’t need to prove himself as a valiant knight to the king or to the ungrateful subjects of Fairytale Kingdom. All that mattered was that he had his best friend and his girl by his side.
“Good,” Drag spoke through a groan. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t feel so well.”
“I told you not to drink that tequila,” Barth snickered.
Drag answered with a moan, which was muffled by the bellow of his rumbling stomach, the sound reminding Barth of a dying whale in heat.
Just as Drag pushed his massive body off the ground, the king jumped up and thrust a fist into the air. “Get back here, dragon! You need to pay for this mess.”
Drag answered with another moan and then an explosive fart.
Barth leaned over Drag and called down to the king. “You’re lucky that wasn’t wet.”
But Barth’s eyes widened when he noticed the king, the entire royal guard, and several fairytale citizens were coated in thick brown, steaming sludge.
Barth cupped his hands over his mouth and called back. “Oops, never mind.”
Romance Novel
Dear reader, if you enjoyed ATTACK OF THE FAIRYTALE ZOMBIES! you might also like to read a few chapters from ROMANCE NOVEL, a vampire, shape-shifter, western, historical, contemporary, medical, suspense, drama parody. Get your copy of ROMANCE NOVEL wherever ebooks are sold or in print as part of The Paranormal Parody Collection. Thanks! PJ
Chapter 7
Smella had just stepped out of the bathroom when she heard the rumbling sound of her truck’s engine. Remembering that Deadward was supposed to bring over her truck, she raced downstairs and out the front door to meet him.
She tried to conceal her disappointment when she saw Snake Long behind the wheel.
“Hey!” He waved to her from the gaping hole that used to be the driver’s side door. “I just stopped by to see how the truck was running.”
Smella realized Deadward must have returned the truck sometime during the night.
Snake’s dark brows scrunched together as he pointed to her face. “What happened to your lip?”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She winced at the pain. “Oh, I bit myself,” she lied, while trying to ignore the racing staccato of her heart.
She’d tried hard to forget about her busted lip all morning. As alarmed as she should have been that Deadward had actually gouged her face, she was more mortified at the realization that he really did hear the fart.
Had she blown her shot at one true love? Would he ever be able to face her again, knowing that her anus was capable of such foul destruction?
How would he react the next time they met? Would he acknowledge her dark secret, or pretend he hadn’t noticed her butt stench had peeled the paint off the walls?
And then, of course, there was that other minor problem. Who was Deadward Forest? Why did he wear tweed and polyester and like violent, painful foreplay? Perhaps Snake knew something about Deadward and his family.
“Snake,” Smella cooed while trailing her fingertip along his bulging biceps. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
His eyes widened, and he looked at her with a goofy, hopeful gleam in his eyes. “You want me to be the father of your illegitimate child?”
“Don’t be silly.” She swatted his shoulder while rolling her eyes. “I was wondering if you knew anything about Deadward Forest.”
Snake winced, a gleam of anger flashing across his features. “Why do you want to know about pasty face?”
“That’s not very nice, Snake,” she scolded. “Maybe he’s allergic to Vitamin D.”
“Are you joking?” he spat. “Deadward is a bloodsucker, just like the rest of his family.”
“Bloodsuckers? Really?” Smella perked, the visualization of heaping wads of money making her mouth water.
“So that’s how he got rich. Do they handle personal injuries or divorces?”
“Neither, Smella.” Snake shook his head, while jumping out of the truck and slamming the imaginary door.
“You need to stay away from The Forests,” he raged, before sweeping Smella into a passionate embrace.
“Let me take care of you and the little bastard,” he begged, his eyes turning dark, thunderous.
Mouth agape, Smella stared at Snake. His body was large, strong and warm. She could get lost in his liquid molten gaze. Oh, if only he was rich and white. But now was not the time to be distracted by secondary heroes. She needed a man who could save little Wally.
“Do you have the money to pay for my baby’s heart surgery?” she rasped.
“No,” he said on an exhale, as if his chest had been crushed with the admission.
“Then forget it, Snake!” Smella pushed away, trying hard to ignore her feelings for him as she bemoaned the fact that friendship sex would count as a strike against her virginity. “I’ve already made up my mind,” she spoke without conviction then bit hard on her knuckles in an effort to quell her raging sexual hormones.
“Besides,” she confessed, “even though I don’t know much about Deadward, I’m already irrevocably and unconditionally in love with him.”