Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Zombies V Nun: Chapter One



Zombies V Nun: Chapter One

The Zombie Apocalypse

aka, The Adventures of Sister Alessa Chressendra Malika Elizabetta Christenson


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A cold wind was blowing.

A hot wind was blowing.

It was windy out, for Christ’s sake.

Sister Melinda Belinda Alessa Chressendra Malika Elizabetta Christenson (known to her close friends as Pearl), stared out the window of her convent room. She was lucky enough to have the “tower” room, where it was rumored that Pope Pius IX had once visited in 1875. Normally, on a Wednesday morning, it was quiet at the Holy Sisters of Saint Matthew (St Matthew was the patron saint of accountants).  All of the sisters were busy with their auditing and finance homework. Pearl was used to the sound of songbirds tweeting from the trees outside her window. And the tap-tap-tap of a calculator. Sometimes she could hear Sister Angelina singing hymns next door.

But this morning a very strange noise interrupted her thoughts. (She was thinking about how much she liked the latest Selena Gomez music video).  This Wednesday morning she heard a different kind of sound. A squishy, crunchy, growly sort of sound. She tiptoed to the window and peeked outside.

Jon-Jon the Gardener was standing next to a flower bed. He had a rake in one hand. And a funny look on his face. (Well, only half of his face, actually). That was because the other half of his face was gone. It appeared to be inside Frank the Handyman’s mouth. And partially on his plaid shirt. For some unknown reason, Frank the Handyman appeared to be noshing on Jon-Jon’s face. Which would account for the squishy, crunchy, growly sounds Pearl was hearing.

Pearl raised a hand to her throat and whispered “Dear God in Heaven. What is happening?”

Just at that moment, Caleb the Cook rushed into her room. He was a massive African-American man with a bald head, a small and tasteful gold hoop earring in his right ear, and a beautiful tattoo of his mother on his left bicep. He was currently holding a gigantic knife in one hand. And a pair of scissors in the other. He had some spots of blood on his apron. (Which wasn’t that surprising, since he was a cook and sometimes butchered chickens for dinner).

“Pearl, not sure if God in Heaven is going to answer your question. But I’ll tell you what’s happening. Looks like we’re about to enter The Zombie Apocalypse, sweetheart. Grab your crucifix if you want to live.”

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Stay tuned for Chapter Two, Potato Mashers Aren't Just For Mashing Potatoes Anymore coming tomorrow.

All my best,
Penelope