Saturday, April 12, 2008


               Jerub awoke on the third day.  The mausoleum door had been rolled away, so he decided to take in the fresh air again. 

            His first stop was the Come ‘N’ Go down the block.  He was met with some seriously strange looks, especially when he asked for a pack of smokes and realized he didn’t have any money in his suit.

            He walked down the parkway towards home.  The only thing on his mind was to get home, slide into his Lay-Z-Boy, watch that Hot Yoga infomercial that always aired on Sundays and chow down on a delicious brainburger.

            Wait.  “Brainburger?!??!?”  No, hamburger.  Hamburger.  Why did he immediately picture a human brain in place of a patty between two sesame seed buns?

            By the time he got to his apartment complex, Jerub wasn’t feeling too well.  He happened to catch his reflection in a neighbor’s window.  Man, did he look beat.

            A harsh voice in the courtyard suddenly caught his attention.

            “Jerub!  Step away from the door!  Now!”

            “I’m just looking for my keys,” Jerub remarked calmly.

            “Don’t fucking move, you zombie fuck!”

            “’Zombie fuck?!?!?’” Jerub thought as he turned to face two police officers, guns drawn.

            The police officers unloaded on Jerub.  Hot stings, like bees, ripped through him.  He began walking towards them with a confused look on his face.  Was this really happening?

            “Wait!  Wait!” he shouted, bleeding from all sides, arms outstretched.  “I just want to go in and sit on my Lay-Z-Boy!  Maybe drink some blood!”

            Blood??!?!  Yeah, that sounded really good to Jerub right about now.

            Bullets flew through him faster and faster, but each one simply went in, then out, barely phasing him.

            “Aim for the head!  Shit!” one of the officers screamed.

            “No, wait!” Jerub pleaded.  “This is my apartment!”

            The last bullet did the trick.  Jerub’s head exploded.  His knees buckled and he came down with a thud in the otherwise peaceful courtyard.

            The officers surrounded him.  He glanced up at their sweaty faces.

            “I just wanted cigarettes,” Jerub whispered.

            His last thoughts were of his first crush in kindergarten.  A little, Jewish, pig-tailed girl named Leisel.  He wondered what she was doing right now.  And what her brain must taste like.



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