Attack of the Fairytale Zombies! (9 page)

“Noooo!” Barth screamed as he rushed toward rat Heather.

Barth fell to his knees and sobbed like a baby while the rat climbed into his hand. How could he have let this happen? He knew he shouldn’t have let Heather come along. He should have left her behind with the wizard and freed Drag himself.

“Care to join her?” Douchebagga asked him.

“No!” Drag cried. “I’ll drink the potion. Just don’t harm my friend.”

Barth looked up at Drag through tear-soaked eyes. He inhaled a tendril of snot, then had to wipe his nose with his sleeve as a long gooey pendulum refused to slide back into his nostril. “Drag, don’t do it!”

Drag merely shook his head and sighed. “I can’t let her turn you into a rat, Barth.”

“I can’t let her shrink your balls or turn you into a zombie. You’re my best friend.” Images of all the wonderful times Barth and Drag had shared together flashed through his mind. Like the time they drank giant Coco Locos and passed out in the street in downtown Las Vegas. Or that time they drank wine that tasted like hairspray and barfed all over a bathroom stall at a bar in Ensenada. Or that other time they crapped their pants after doing shots of tequila at the donkey show in Tijuana.

Drag let out a mournful sob, acting as if he, too, had read the previous flashback sequence. “I’m sorry I farted on you.”

“I’m sorry I wanted you to risk your balls so I could have sex with Heather.” More tears spilled from Barth’s eyes. More boogers slid out of his nostrils. This time, he was so overcome with anguish, he didn’t care that the snot had run over his lips and down his chin.

“Oh, gag.” Douchebagga threw up her hands. “Would one of you just make up your minds?”

Drag picked up the goblet and tossed the contents down the back of his throat.

“Drag, no!” Barth reached a hand out to his friend before collapsing onto the floor in a heap of sobs.

Rat Heather scurried out from under Barth’s stomach and climbed on top of his neck before biting him on the ear.

“Ouch!” He jerked up in time to watch Drag making googly eyes at Douchebagga.

“Douchebagga,” Drag cooed while batting thick, fake lashes, “let me look closer upon your beauty.”

Barth wiped thick snot film off his lips. “Drag, don’t! She’s vile!”

But Drag ignored Barth’s warning as he licked his painted lips while rubbing meaty paws seductively down his chest.

The old witch giggled as she hurried into the dragon’s cage while disrobing. Folds of sagging, pockmarked and wart-covered flesh jiggled as she raised her wand and zapped Drag’s collar and chain off his neck.

“Ewwww!” Barth shrieked.

Douchebagga waved her wand again and a large four-poster bed appeared in the center of the cage. She heaved her body onto the bed and dropped her wand to the floor. She lay on her back with her legs spread wide. Skin, tits and stomach folds rocked back and forth like sky scrapers in a Japanese earthquake.

But judging by the sultry stare in Drag’s heavy-lidded eyes, he was immune to the ugliness before him as he leaned over and planted a huge kiss on her lips.

Barth wanted so badly to look away, but he was drawn to the macabre scene before him by some inexplicable mixture of curiosity and really poor judgment.

Which was why he was only slightly disappointed when the actual sex scene never played out. Instead, Drag strapped a screaming and cackling Douchebagga to the bed with his discarded dog collar. He then wrapped the chain around her large body a few times so that she was totally immobile.

Drag then turned toward Barth with a wink. “See, the potion didn’t have any effect on me.”

“Drag!” Barth launched himself toward his best friend, nearly squishing a squealing rat Heather in the process.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Barth grimaced. “I only hope you don’t wake up tomorrow with shrunken testicles.”

“I’ll be fine.” Drag swatted the air with a limp wrist before he fixed his gaze on the rat crawling up Barth’s leg. “I’m sorry about Heather. Maybe the wizard can fix her.”

“Wait. I’m even more determined now to save Fairytale Kingdom from the zombie outbreak.” Barth held out his hand as rat Heather crawled into his palm. He then picked up her long wand and slid it into his pants pocket. “Heather would have wanted me to continue.” He smiled affectionately at the rodent while patting her furry head. “We need to find where Douchebagga hid the potion.”

“Fat chance, dickwads.”

Startled, Barth nearly dropped Heather as he spun around.

“The Artist Formerly Known as The Prince!”

Barth eyed the spoiled prince with derision. The Prince was hovering on the wizard’s broom, holding a golden snitch in one hand and the wizard’s vial of potion in the other. What did a golden snitch have to do with this story? Who knows? But since he’s a teenager riding a magical broom, it only makes sense that he probably just returned from a Quiddich tournament.

“That’s right.” The teen eyed the snitch and scrunched his brow before he tossed the squealing object across the room. “And I’ve got your precious potion.”

“What?” Barth gasped. “How did you get it?”

The teen laughed aloud. “Who do you think gave it to Douchebagga in the first place?”

“Why?” Barth and Drag asked in unison.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He rolled his eyes. “After the two of you refused to include me in your crusade, I decided to turn evil.”

“You turned evil over that?” Barth scratched his head while sharing a puzzled look with Drag. “I’ve never understood villains.”

“Yeah,” Drag snickered. “I just don’t think that was motivation enough to turn evil.”

The prince’s lower lip trembled. “You also made fun of my penises.”

“I’m not even going to touch that one,” Drag said wryly.

“So what?” Barth said. “Look at how many years the people have made fun of me and Drag. We’ve got way more motivation to turn evil than you.”

The teen pouted. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be me.”

“Oh, no.” Drag rolled his eyes. “Here we go with the misunderstood teenager bullshit.”

“My father cares more for his precious gold than his own son,” the teen spat.

Drag groaned. “Cry me a river.”

“It’s not easy being rich and alone,” the prince cried out.

Barth blew out an exasperated breath. “Boo hoo.”

The teen’s eyes clouded over as he looked lost in reflective thought, or else, he was preparing to recite a really long monologue. “If it hadn’t been for all those slumber parties I had in the wizard’s bedchamber, where we’d watch porn movies and I’d massage the wizard’s thighs with cinnamon scented oil, I would have grown up with no one to love me.”

“Okay, TMI, Penis Prince.” Drag covered his ears with his paws. “TMI!”

The teen’s face turned ten shades of red. “One day you will all regret the way you treated me, but it will be too late. The world will be overrun by zombies and I will be the only one with the life-saving potion.”

Barth heaved a sigh. “If everyone else is a zombie, that makes you the only viable food source. I think you need to think this plan through first.”

“I’m a teenager.” The teen shrugged. “I don’t need to think about plans when I’ve got to deal with raging hormones. Farewell, jerkoffs.” He spun around on his broom and flew out a nearby window, heading in the direction of Swans Lake.

Barth’s heart plummeted as he watched the boy fly off with the life-saving potion. How would he save the kingdom now?

Beside him, Drag stared slack-jawed at the retreating prince. “We should go after him.”

Barth held up a hand. “First, we leave Heather in the wizard’s care, then we go after the prince.”

“Wouldn’t it make sense to try and catch the prince?” Drag asked. “I’m much bigger and faster and could probably overtake him.”

Barth shook his head as he looked down at the rodent in his hand. He’d already endangered Heather’s life enough by asking her to help free Drag. “I don’t want to put Heather in any more danger. Besides, this story is only 17,000 words so far. We need to drag out the plot a little longer.”

“Wizard, what happened?”

Barth carefully climbed off Drag’s back and in through the tower window. Carefully, because he didn’t think he could survive the 200 foot drop. And if he suffered the misfortune of surviving the drop, he’d be eaten alive by zombies.

A whole horde of them was moaning for brains below and pounding on the tower walls. Oversized rabid werewolves, sparkling vampires, crazed pixies and even giant trolls were among the brain-thirsty ghouls. Judging by the pile of rubble that was once the king’s twenty-foot electrified security fence, Barth knew it would only be a matter of time before they brought down the tower as well.

“The entire town has been zombiefied,” the wizard cried out while pacing the floor of his darkened chamber, illuminated only by jars of scented candles. “They’ve run out of brains and have stormed the castle.”

The king, who sat huddled in a corner with his few surviving guards, stood on trembling legs. He grinned sheepishly. “I tried to feed them cake but it didn’t work.”

“My tower is the only part of the castle they haven’t been able to penetrate,” the wizard said. “I put an anti-zombie force-field around it which should hold them off for at least a few hours.”

“A force-field?” Barth scratched his head. “That’s a little sci-fi for a fairytale. Are you sure it will work?”

As if on cue, a crazed little zombie pixie flew around Drag’s enormous flapping wings and tried to burst through the tower window. She was zapped on the spot. Her steaming little ashes floated down toward the ground.

The wizard arched a brow while folding his arms across his chest. “You were saying?”

Barth swallowed hard as he leaned his head out the window and watched the pixie’s ashes break apart in the breeze. He quickly pulled back. “So this force-field only works on zombies, right?”

The wizard nodded. “Any zombie who tries to enter the tower will be fried like a mosquito in a bug zapper. But the force-field’s battery level has already dropped to fifty-percent and the zombies knocked out the power, so I can’t recharge it.”

Barth’s jaw fell open as he finally took in his surroundings. He’d initially thought the wizard was having a candle party, but now he realized the wizard’s chamber was so dark because he had no electric lighting. No wonder there were no cookies and punch.

“That sucks,” he said, not just because the electricity was out, but because he’d really been hoping for some refreshments.

The wizard heaved a sigh before turning mournful eyes on Barth. “Yes, especially since our only hope now, Barth,” the wizard groaned, “rests with you and your dragon. Please tell me you were able to recover the potion.”

Barth grimaced. “Almost, and then the penis prince stole your broom and took off with the potion.”

The king gasped. “My son stole the potion? That kid’s grounded for a week.”

“Oh, wow, King,” Drag called dryly through the window. “Such a harsh punishment for dooming an entire kingdom to a flesh-eating zombie curse.”

“You’re right.” The king nodded, looking totally unfazed by Drag’s caustic tone. “He’ll be grounded for a weekend with no television. That ought to teach him.”

Barth grabbed the wizard’s arm. “I need to go after the prince. Wizard, can you use your giant pussy to find out where he went?”

The wizard leveled Barth with a glare. “My giant
eye
was finally working and then the zombies knocked out my satellite internet.”

Barth snickered. “That’s what you get for not switching to DSL.”

“Barth,” the wizard pleaded, “you have to find the prince and get that potion, either that or slay everyone in fairytale kingdom who have now turned into zombies.”

The king raised a hand. “I vote he slays the zombies.”

“No.” Barth shook his head. “Heather would have wanted me to go after the potion and save the kingdom.” Barth headed out the window before stopping and abruptly turning around. He pulled rat Heather out of his pants pocket and placed her in the wizard’s hand. “Oh, I almost forgot, I need you to cure Heather. Douchebagga turned her into a rat.”

The wizard scowled down at the rat. “So I see.”

Barth struck a prayer pose. “Can you help her wizard?” he begged. “It would really mean a lot to me.”