My First Zombie Attack
Not long ago, my dog had just come back inside. He appeared to be covered in maple syrup. “Delicious” I said to myself as I approached him. But then I looked at his face, he was sad. This made me sad, and I frowned. “Do you not like being all sticky?” I asked him, “Here, let me help”.
I began to cook up some pancakes, intent on rubbing the syrup onto them for a delicious snack. Scruffy (I do not want to disclose his actual name for fear of privacy issues) laid himself down near the wall and began licking the syrup. “No Scruffy don’t be a pig, save some for me” I said.
My pancakes were nearing completion when I heard a sound at my back window. This was strange, because as far as I knew no one lived in my backyard. I began to get excited at the prospect of a Keebler Elf perhaps living in my backyard. How else would Scruffy have become covered in syrup? I quickly made my way to the back door and was happy to see a small person standing outside.
As I approached the door, I grew weary. The little person appeared to be covered in maple syrup as well. I had only made enough pancakes for Scruffy and I, so I was worried that he would be insulted. I got to the sliding door and slid it open. The elf bolted inside and latched himself to my leg. I closed the door and pulled him off, setting him down off to my right. I made my way back to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry Mr. Elf, but I’m afraid that I only made pancakes enough for Scruffy and I” I said. I then heard a slightly muffled bark and ran to the dining room where Scruffy was lying down. It appeared as though the Elf was hugging scruffy. But then I saw that his teeth were in Scruffy and became confused.
I told him, “Sir, you are already covered in a sufficient amount of maple syrup, I am going to have to ask that you please tend to yourself, before eating Scruffy and mines”.
He pulled his head away from Scruffy, who now had a considerable bite on his shoulder. Maple syrup was pouring out of him.
“Scruffy” I screamed, “Why didn’t you tell me your insides were a veritable oasis of syrup?” He did not reply. It was at that time that I realized neither Scruffy nor the Elf was covered in maple syrup, but that it was blood. Although this did make more sense to me, I was upset that my pancakes would now go to waste. The Elf turned its evil eyes on me and began running towards me. I turned around and ran into the kitchen.
I stopped and surveyed my surroundings for a weapon. I looked at the stove, my pan with two pancakes in it lied there. I needed a weapon. The imaginary gears in my head began turning. The pan. THE PAN. Of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin the pan. I gently rotated the pan so that my pancakes fell into my open hand. I then delicately placed the pan into the sink and turned on some warm water. I turned around with my new weapons. Pancakes. Or should I say PAINCAKES!
‘Zombies hate pancakes’ I thought to myself, and threw them at the Keebler. They appeared to have no affect, though I suspected this was merely zombie trickery. He continued to advance. It then occurred to me that he was small, like a ball. I kicked him and he flew through an open window. I closed the window, for fear of zombie birds.
Scruffy doesn’t eat with me anymore. He does not like pancakes as much as he used to either. I am upset that I have to keep him caged all the time, but it is the price to pay for having a zombie dog I suppose. I often look back and wonder how such a seemingly perfect day, one where my dog came inside covered in delicious maple syrup could have turned into such a catastrophe. Oh well, at least I can continue to eat pancakes and know that as long as I do, I am not a zombie. Because zombies hate pancakes.
To Be Continued…