Monday, October 31, 2011

Dead Rite chapter 85.05

“Wow.” Dill's face remained impassive. Harold elected then and there to never play poker with a zombie. Or anyone else, for that matter, He could never get the hang of poker. “Bummer, huh? Mind you, Sam'll be pleased to know he has a father. If he wasn't dead he would, anyway. That'll be a kicker for his dad, though, finding out he'll never meet the son he never met.”

“I wouldn't worry too much about it. Percival still thinks it's nineteen eighty-seven. To him, only a couple of days have passed since he last saw Mary. He won't even be used to the idea of having a son yet so not having one any more shouldn't bother him.”

“You can be terribly crass sometimes, Jasfoup.” Harold scowled at him. “Think of the poor lad's feelings.”

“He's a zombie. He doesn't have any feelings.”

“I meant this Percival chap, though I'm sure Mr Trubshaw has feelings too. It must be difficult for a zombie to express them.”

“Thanks.” Dill gave him a half-wave instead of any kind of touch. “It's nice to be thought of as a person. I've missed that, I think.” He paused. “What's that delicious smell? Is your mum baking?”

“I don't think...” Harold's nose wrinkled. “Devious? Have you dropped one?”

“Not me.” The imp pointed to Amanda. “It's her.”

Harold looked at the recently zombified woman. She'd got hold of his ceremonial dagger and was in the process of disembowelling herself. “I say!” He pointed. “Stop that at once. Intestines invariable stain the floorboards.”

2 comments:

Stephanie said...

Oh no! *laughs* Can't turn your back on the suicidal.

Leatherdykeuk said...

They can be so 'look at me'