Well, I'm not going to waste time blabbing today. Thanks to all of my reviewers!
Disclaimer: I don't own Bark, Bean, or Nack. I only own Bobbie, Eliah, Natalie, Mandy, and the guests.
Also, I forgot to mention this previous chapters. Several ideas, scenes, and some bits of dialogue are from the book that inspired this fiction, but they're only in some chapters.
Okay, now as I always say...ONWARD TO CHAPTER NINE!
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"That was...unusual..." Bark said as he collapsed down on the couch, his heart still beating like crazy. Nack nodded his head in agreement.
"Now what?" Bean asked, sitting down besides Bark.
Bark shrugged. "Go to the meeting and find out what the secret is, I guess. There's not much else that we can do."
"What the hell will we do for breakfast?" Nack asked Bark. "I ain't eating none of that slop."
Bark groaned, stood up, and walked into the bedroom. He returned a moment later with a large, red, cookbook under one arm. "There's flour, sugar, milk, and other stuff in the kitchen." He began. "I think that one of us should make muffins for breakfast."
"Great," Nack said as he yawned and sauntered off into his bedroom, "I nominate Bean." With that said, he slammed the door shut.
Bark looked over at Bean. The normally enthusiastic, excited duck looked just as tired and beat as the polar bear felt. "Do you mind making the muffins?" He asked at last, feeling a little guilty.
Bean shook his head. "Nah, I don't mind."
"Thanks Bean." Bark yawned. He handed Bean the red cookbook, walked off into the bedroom, and shut the door behind him.
Now all alone in the hotel room, Bean walked into the kitchen and set the cookbook down on the table next to the copy of Raising the Dead for Dummies before opening up a cabinet and taking out a large ceramic bowl. Once he was done with that, he grabbed what he thought was the cookbook off of the table and flipped through it until he found a recipe.
"Yup. This looks like a muffin recipe!" Bean declared. "Let's see...two cups sugar, one cup milk, one ounce ground coffee beans, half a cup root beer, two ounces dark chocolate, two double A batteries, one smelly sneaker, one-fourth a cup Pepsi, and a pinch of paprika." He read. "Where am I going to find all of that?"
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After searching the hotel for half an hour, Bean finally had all of his "muffin" ingredients assembled on the table. He had gotten the common items, such as the milk, sugar, coffee, chocolate, paprika and soda out of the kitchen, the batteries out of the TV remote, and the smelly sneaker off of Bark's foot. "Okay," Bean said, turning back to the book, "time to mix the batter." He began to carefully follow the "muffin" recipe which read:
First, mix the dry ingredients: sugar, ground coffee, and paprika together in a large skull (if you haven't recently slaughtered the innocent, then a large cauldron or bowl will be acceptable) Then, add the root beer and mix it with a decaying arm (if no arm is available, then use a spoon). Next, add the milk and Pepsi. Stir it in with your arm (or spoon). Once this is done, you must add the batteries, the sneaker, and the chocolate. Stir together. Your mixture is now ready. Enjoy your zombie army!
"Zombies!" Bean said when he finished mixing the mixture. "Darn, I thought that this was a muffin recipe!" The disappointed duck opened up the garbage can and dumped the foul mixture (which oddly enough had turned a sickening shade of green even though none of the ingredients were green) onto the chicken bones from earlier that night...
"That was the last of the sugar." Bean stated. "Now I can't make muffins for tomorrow..." He sighed as he placed the bowl and his spoon in the sink. "Might as well go to bed."
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A loud, noise awoke Bean sometime around one in the morning. He yawned, sat up in bed, and rubbed his eyes. Straining to hear whatever noise had disturbed his sleep, he could barely make out of muffled noise. It sounded like...clucking?
Curious and slightly frightened, Bean pushed asides the blankets and climbed out of the bed. The normal strip of light under the door that always could be seen was now blocked by something... something ... feathery.
Bean gulped and opened the door. Standing in front of him was not one, not two, not three, not four, but a whole army of chickens. Zombie chickens. "BARK!" Bean hollered as he slammed the door shut in the chickens' decaying, zombie faces.
The polar bear sat up with a jolt. "What's the matter Bean?" He asked, climbing out of the bed.
"T-there's ch-chickens... Z-zombie ch-chickens!" The duck stammered, breathing heavily. Bark raised a skeptical eyebrow. Bean pointed to the door. "There right outside the door!" He exclaimed, pointing madly at the wooden door, behind which the ominous clucking of chickens could be heard.
"Your just imagining it Bean." Bark said as he walked over to the door and turned the knob. "There's no such thing as..."
"BA-COCK!" A zombie chicken clucked angrily as Bark opened the door. Freaked out, the polar bear immediately slammed the door shut again.
"Bean, what did you do?" He moaned, collapsing back on the bed.
"I don't know... I think I accidentally made a recipe to raise the dead." Bean confessed, "And then I dumped it in the garbage can..."
"This is bad Bean. Bad! We've got to tell Nack." Bark said as he searched the room for a large, heavy object. Finding nothing else, he was forced to sacrifice the TV.
"No! Not the TV!" Bean gasped as Bark heaved the TV up onto his back.
"Open the door." He gasped from under the weight of the big screen. Bean nodded solemnly and opened up the door. The army of zombie chickens charged into the room, clucking loudly. With all of his strength, Bark threw the TV onto the mob of chickens, squishing several in the process. The polar bear grabbed Bean and jumped up onto the large blank screen. Now surrounded by a sea of zombie chickens, Bark desperately searched for a patch of carpet to jump to...
He spotted a small patch a good distance away. Bark leaped off of the TV and made a rather ungraceful landing on the ground. Thankfully, they had landed right in front of Nack's door. With the chickens hard on their heals, Bark and Bean tore the door open, scampered inside, and slammed it behind them. Cursing quite loudly, Nack sat up in his bed and glared at Bark and Bean. "What the hell are you two doing in my room at one in the morning!" He snarled.
"We have a small problem..." Bark said, standing up from the ground. "A small... zombie problem."
"Zombies?" Nack echoed. "What the hell did you do, Bean?" He asked the green duck. "You can't even make muffins without screwing up some how can you?"
"Nope!"
Nack yelled some assorted profanities at Bean. Meanwhile, Bark had his ear up against the door. "There coming..." He warned.
"Who's coming?" Nack demanded.
"The zombies..." Bark explained. "They're coming to get us."
"What do we do?" Bean asked, running around the room in a crazed frenzy. "We're going to be eaten alive!" He shouted as the zombies began to pound on the door.
"They're going to break it down..." Bark mumbled as he backed away from the door. Suddenly, the door was ripped from it's hinges. It fell to the ground with a loud thud, in the exact spot that Bark had been standing in only a second ago.
Nack's jaw hit the floor as the zombies began to flood the room. "Chickens? Zombie chickens? You've got to be kidding me!" He exclaimed.
"We're trapped!" Bean shouted as he looked around the room. The zombie chickens drew closer. Their undead eyes glinting wickedly and drool seeping from their undead beaks...