Thanksgiving poem. :D
I know it's not a short story, but the poem tells a story and is entertaining - in my opinion. Enjoy! :D
Summary -
Our heroes find themselves in a poem they cannot escape. At least they get a thanksgiving meal... until zombies interrupt!
There Were Zombies on Thanksgiving
There were zombies on Thanksgiving,
The woe that befalls the unwitting.
They wanted to join the living,
How awfully unfitting.
They were in the woods,
Waiting with a careful trap,
A table full of food and goods.
Samantha was in charge of all that crap.
And truth be told,
Came our heroes tired and sore.
Out of a time and space fold,
Hungry and bored.
For they'd spent last night in a dreadful place,
A place of evil and blood.
Full of rotten corpses and black waste,
To say the least - this was not good!
Oh, there were zombies on Thanksgiving,
The woe that befalls the unwitting.
They wanted to join the living,
How awfully unfitting.
Here was a peaceful world,
Of sweet air.
Where the wind danced and twirled,
And Samantha asked them to share.
The fall atmosphere was ripe with the smell of trees,
the forest was full of decaying leaves.
In this forest sit,
four zombie slayers, strong and fit.
Tank Dempsey, a little angrily, shoving in food gleefully.
Nikolai Belinski, a little tipsy... Super tipsy, and very lazy.
Takeo Masaki, seriously convincingly deadly.
Three of the mighty.
And of course, not last or least,
Edward Richtofen, grinning like a beast.
They sat around the table, tense, not enjoying the forest, but denying not the food.
For they were the poorest(money-wise) zombie slayers of the brood.
They ate their fill,
But woe and behold there was a spill.
Wine on the ground and all around, drama.
Good thing Nikolai had his vodka.
There were zombies on Thanksgiving,
The woe that befalls the unwitting.
They wanted to join the living,
How awfully unfitting.
And the before-mentioned undead finally did attack.
Rotten skin loose,
Faces and flesh black.
Howling like a lonely moose.
Bullets flew,
And blood did fly,
As corpses were ran through in through.
Again, they die.
Frightening they were not,
As the battle wore on.
Though they've taken a lot,
Our heroes could fight 'til the dawn.
It was all good and fun,
Luckily, the zombies did fall.
Every last one,
Large and small.
There were zombies on Thanksgiving,
The woe that befalls the unwitting.
They wanted to join the living,
How awfully unfitting.
They had a moment of relief,
A break from the dead.
Only this was a reprieve,
From slugs of lead.
Then came something strange,
Something bizarre.
Something Sam had to arrange,
Something from afar.
"ZOMBIE TURKEYS!" The four did cry.
For the little cluck-ers did come,
And someone had to die.
For brains, the zombie turkeys did want some.
They tumble and squawk,
A half a dozen or more.
Or maybe a flock,
From the trees they tore.
Angry with red eyes,
Feathers loose and hanging.
Attracting flies,
Never changing.
"Shit, that's insane," said Tank.
"Look at them all!" Nikolai did bellow.
Edward did say, "American, don't faint!"
Takeo just laughed and said, "You're all funny fellows"
Feathers soon flew,
Blood on the soil.
Some would call it untrue,
But so they did toil.
A turkey in their face.
Another one pecking their feet,
Pulling a shoe lace.
Someone even fell on their seat.
Who was this unfortunate person?
You'll never know.
Because they are up and on the run,
And I'll never tell.
There were zombie-turkeys on Thanksgiving,
The woe that befalls the unwitting.
They wanted to join the living,
How awfully unfitting.
The four did flee,
Running from the horde,
Chased by undead birds of glee,
Dempsey would say, "Good lord!"
They escaped the woods,
To be greeted by a shore.
Everyone knew it was not good,
Open land, they'd hoped for.
Now there was nowhere to run.
They must take a stand.
"Zhis vill be fun!"
They will not lose all of the known lands.
The zombie-turkeys burst from the brush,
Wild and unforgiving.
Ready to turn everyone into mush,
Hostile and un-living.
Bullets fly.
The lead is loose.
At least they could try,
To hopefully not hit an innocent goose.
Then, abruptly,
The zombie turkeys all died.
For they were lacking support,
Their numbers, Samantha did lie.
Our heroes celebrate and cheer,
But is it the end.
For doom could draw near,
Fortunately, they are done and-
"Ah shut the hell up already!" Tank groaned in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This poem shit is really old!"
Richtofen folded his arms and frowned at the American. "Vhat are you talking about?" He asked impatiently.
"Like this part of the poem - There were zombies on Thanksgiving, The woe that befalls the unwitting. They wanted to join the living, How awfully unfitting!" Dempsey stated. He gave the others an evil look of anger.
"I didn't know you wrote poetry." Nikolai laughed, swigging his drink and plucking turkey feathers from his suit. "You suck!"
"I didn't write it!"
"You recited it?" Takeo seemed surprised.
"No," Tank growled in frustratrion. "It's written right up there." He pointed towards my stanzas. Wait! How'd that happen?
The others gave him a blank look and he stormed off belligerently. He paced down the sea shore, his face twisted into a frown. He was still covered in feathers and blood, but he seemed not to notice. Maybe he just didn't care.
Then Dr. Richtofen started his own poem, shaking feathers off too.
"Stupid American."
"Ugly American."
"You have not one freund!"
"JOY!"
"THE END!"
The End.
I hope you liked it! Poor, Dempsey. It's not that I don't like him. He just gets so mad and its funny to pick on him because of that! No hate for you, Dempsey! :D
