If you read this, I demand you review. I consider myself a huge fan of Hey Arnold and want everyone to read this epic piece. I do not own the series, although if I did, I would make a movie of this very script. I will write more if reviewed well.
The day of the zombie invasion began just like any other day at PS. Gerald was being gangster, while Phoebe was pouring over her notes in preparation for class, and Helga was skinning a goose in the back of the room, laughing maniacally. Arnold walked in, wearing his kilt as if he was some Scottish person.
"It's a shirt," Arnold said, lying to hide his infatuation with Scotland.
The previous week he found a map to where he thought his parents might live. His plan was to bring the entire class with him to South America. "That way, we can have as many problems as possible," Arnold explained.
Helga flopped the skinned bird on Arnold's desk. "Take that football head," she said.
Arnold sighed, looking at the blood dripping all over his desk. "At least it's not a dead porcupine like last week," he said.
Stinky spoke up. "Wow Arnold, way to look on the bright side of things. It makes you really nice to listen to"
"Thank-you Stinky. You're not so bad to listen to either."
"Hmmf," said Helga, sulking.
Class began and Mr. Simmons spoke to the class. "Well today class, I have a very special announcement." He looked around. Arnold was still not thinking about class, but his trip the next week. "Curly here has been infected with the sleeping sickness." Arnold's eyes shot open. The sleeping sickness? Wasn't that the sickness his parents made an antidote for when dealing with the Green Eyed people? "Now, I want us to accept him and not treat him like a freak just because he's going to begin a zombie apocalypse."
Phoebe raised her hand. "Mr. Simmons, did you say a zombie apocalypse?"
"Yes," Mr. Simmons said. "A very special zombie apocalypse." He grabbed piece of cheese and threw it to France. "In fact, the next person Curly bites will also become a zombie." Curly bit Herald. "Well, I guess it has begun."
"No! I don't want to become a zombie today!"
"Ah, stop your whining," Helga said.
"No, I-" Herald never finished his sentence, because he turned into a zombie as he and Curly began biting others. An announcement came from the speakers. "Students, we have seen the beginning of the zombie apocalypse. Please lock all doors as soon as possible." Mr. Simmons went to lock the door, but his students were too many as they ran from the classroom. "Gerald," Arnold said. "We need to find the high ground. Find your family and meet me at my room."
"Dude, it's every man for themselves, they can take care of themselves."
"Good thinking," Arnold said.
The crowd of students ran to the front doors of the school, just to find that they were locked by the principal himself. "Well that's just great. The one time we need to leave the school, and you lock the doors," Helga said.
"Now young lady," the principal said. "We don't need to have this conversation again." He walked away.
Herald, Mr. Simmons, and Curly rounded the corner, foaming at the mouth with the sleeping sickness. All the students screamed and ran in different directions. None of them were safe. Arnold ran into the cafeteria, just to see Stinky sneaking out through the window.
"Hey Arnold," Stinky said. "Come out through this here winder."
As they began to escape, Rhonda ran up to the window with the zombies close behind her. Arnold and Gerald screamed as Stinky quickly shut the window. "Good thinking Stinky," Arnold said.
"Why Arnold, you are always so nice and considerate. Always thinking of others even in a zombie apocalypse." Rhonda screamed as the zombies infected her with the sleeping sickness. Her arms flung wildly from side to side in her last attempt to live.
"We better get out of here," Arnold said.
Stinky, Gerald, and Arnold all ran to Arnold's home.
"Hey dude," Gerald said. "You know we should go-
"I know Gerald," said Arnold. Luckily, Arnold had found his parents' journal the previous week. He found it quickly and tucked it under his arm. "This'll help," Arnold said.
"Shortman!" Phil said from the neighboring room. "Why're you home from school so early today."
"The sleeping sickness is turning everyone into zombies grandpa," Arnold said.
"Oh I see! And let me guess: you want your parents' journal to tell you what to do, right?"
"Yes," Arnold said. "Do you know what to do?"
"Luckily for you," his grandfather said, walking over to the couch. "Back in 1917, there was an outbreak of sleeping sickness in this very town."
"Really?" Arnold asked.
"Wow!" Gerald gasped.
"True story. The battle was fierce, and there were no survivors."
"No survivors?"
"Yep. Everyone in this town died. The only problem was, they wouldn't eat each other for some reason, and so they all just starved to death."
"How did you survive grandpa?" Arnold asked.
"Well, it was a long time ago, but I still have all these weapons from the fight." Grandpa pushed a button and the couch flipped over to reveal an entire arsenal of weapons. Arnold grabbed a crossbow, Gerald picked up his own chainsaw, Stinky found a throwing star, and Grandpa found a shotgun.
Oskar walked down the stairs with a plate of eggs and orange juice. "Hey Grandpa," the slob said. "I was thinking we could just make peace with the zombies. You know, avoid all the fighting."
Phil pointed his gun at Oskar. "You can help make war or die."
"As I said, I'm with you."
Arnold took aim and shot Oskar. "He made an excellent target practice."
"Good thinking Shortman," said Phil.
There was a knock at the door. Arnold opened it to see Phoebe.
"I was thinking Helga might be here," Phoebe said. "She just ditched me when she saw the zombies."
"No, I haven't seen Helga since the infestation broke out."
"Oh. Well there are zombies everywhere."
"Would you like some weapons?"
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," said Arnold's grandfather.
"Grandpa, everyone needs a chance to defend themselves."
"See Arnold, just as I said," said Stinky. "You're always thinking of others before yourself. Kinda inspirin' is all."
"I guess I could find a weapon," Phoebe said as she took out a sword and a bazooka. "Let's do this."
There was a knock at the door. Phil opened it up to see a crowd of zombies. "Hey Arnold, the zombies are here!"
Everyone ran into Arnold's room, where a barricade was formed. Planks of wood were hammered across the door in an effort to make sure the zombies could not enter.
"That should hold them for a thousand years," Arnold said. "Well, a few seconds anyway."
"What does that journal say," asked Gerald.
"Good point," Arnold said as he opened his parents' journal.
"Arnold, there's something moving in your bed!" Phil cried out, pointing at the mass moving under the covers. Every weapon was pointed toward the bed.
"Wait," said Arnold. "Before we shoot, let's find out who that is." He turned to the far side of his room. "Who are you?" he asked the hiding person. Slowly, the covers stilled and Helga stuck out her head. Underneath her eyes, she had black facepaint, and she was wearing all black, as if she were a black ops soldier. "Helga," Arnold said. "You must have heard about this being a safe place."
Helga looked nervously over to her side. "Uh… sure."
Arnold smiled as he pointed his crossbow at her. "You should have come earlier Helga. We were giving away weapons."
He might have pulled the trigger and shot the girl had the zombies not begun to band on the door. "Fire!" he said, twirling his weapon toward the door. The zombies burst through the door but were met with a wave of bullets. The battle was long and vicious. Sweat flew through the air and all the peoples' hair grew slick and wet with the heat of battle. Helga, even though she was naturally tough, hid in the corner.
"Oh Arnold," she said, pulling out her locket. "You are fighting so bravely. Fight on my lone warrior. Fight on for me…" A zombie form of Brainy snuck up behind her, breathing hard. Helga screamed. A nearby explosion from Phoebe's bazooka threw him through Arnold's window roof, and out into the streets below. Soon after, the battle was finished.
"Barricade the door," Arnold ordered. "Helga, since you're basically useless right now, do everything I say."
"Right," Helga said nervously before she began to barricade the door.
"The journal says that the first thing to go is the butterflies," Arnold read.
"That's already happened, football head," Helga said.
"What's next?" asked grandpa.
"It says the victim might go insane."
"How can we tell if it's affected your grandma?" Gerald asked.
"Good question Gerald," Arnold replied, taking out his magnum. "We can't take that risk."
"Ooh! Ooh! Can I do it?" Grandpa asked.
Arnold smiled. "Well, if you really want to Grandpa, I suppose you can."
"Yippee!" Phil said as he charged into the next room with his shotgun. There was a loud bang. There was a sudden, blood curdling scream.
"Sounds like they got grandpa," Arnold said.
"I am so sorry," said Stinky.
Helga put her hand on Arnold's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "I'm sure you'll pull through," she said.
"Look on the bright side," Arnold said optimistically. "We're all safe. Grandpa chose to leave the room and look what happened to him."
"Arnold, I can only take so much inspiration in one day," Stinky said. "I don't know what I would do if you weren't here to remind us of the bright side."
The zombie version of grandpa charged into the room, as Phoebe jumped up and cut him in half with her sword.
"Take his old shotgun," Arnold told Helga.
"Arnold," she said. "I just want to say, in case we don't make it out alive, that I don't really hate you."
"I know, Helga," Arnold said. "I know you are a good person at heart."
That wasn't good enough for Helga. "Actually, you can say I kind of like you. Actually, you could say I like you a lot."
Arnold's mouth dropped open. "You- you do?"
"Yes! In fact, I love you! I've been following you for years, building shrines to you in my closet, and filling books and books with poems about you. I love you, I've always! In fact, I've got this locket," she said as she reached into her dress to retrieve the locket. She never would see it again.
"She's gone crazy!" Gerald shouted.
"Right," Arnold said as he took out the crossbow and opened fire on the lunatic. "I've wanted to do that for years," he said. Arnold and Gerald began laughing.
"Can you imagine the sane Helga G. Pataki loving you?"
"It's ridiculous," Arnold said. "She was definitely infected."
Phoebe was shocked at first, but began to laugh. "Serves her right for being such a jerk."
Suddenly, the zombies burst into the room. While Arnold and Gerald were better prepared, Phoebe was weak and eaten quickly by the zombie invaders. "Nooooo!" It was too late. None of them were safe.
Stinky was the next to go. He threw his throwing star and was devoured by the zombie form of Big Patty. "Tarnations," he said.
Gerald and Arnold were now fighting alone. "Dude, I don't know if we can make it," Gerald said. "There's just so many."
"We'll survive Gerald," Arnold said. "Just have some faith."
"Why do you always have to look on the bright side?" asked Gerald.
"Someone has to."
" You are such an inspiration."
Arnold smiled at his friend as he shot an arrow through the zombie version of the Pigeon man. "On the bright side of things, I've always hated that guy."
"I know what you mean," Gerald agreed.
The zombie battle was finished. For now. Arnold began collecting spare weapons.
"Gerald, let's split up and begin gathering troops. Meet me on Elk Island."
"Whatever you say man," Gerald said. "I'll see you then."
They scattered to prepare for war.
Wow, that was exciting. Since I know this is going to be reviewed well, part 2 is already coming!