Attack of the Fairytale Zombies! (10 page)

The wizard gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Barth beamed. “Thank you.” He turned back toward the window and snaked one leg through the opening. “Don’t worry, King Dump and Wizard Dilligaf, I will free the kingdom from this zombie curse. You can depend on me.”

The king slapped his forehead. “We’re all doomed.”

Just as Barth had climbed onto Drag’s back, a woman’s cry for help could be heard from the king’s courtyard.

Barth and Drag exchanged puzzled looks.

“That didn’t sound like a zombie’s cry,” Barth said.

“Should we go help her?” Drag asked.

Barth worried his bottom lip as he looked down at the horde of zombies who’d converged on the tower. Fortunately, the zombies who were pressing against the wall were all being fried by the force-field, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they got through.

The woman’s shrill cries resounded again. “Fly down here and help me you Goddamned idiots, before I’m killed!”

Barth shrugged. “Maybe we should go help for just a minute.”

He and Drag flew toward the horde of zombies who’d assembled in the king’s courtyard. They were all swarming a familiar looking buxom blonde who was doing a poor job trying to fend off the zombies by hurling screaming mice at their heads. She wore nothing but a g-string bikini.

Barth whistled low and then reminded himself that he wasn’t interested in the blonde. He had a beautiful witch rat waiting for him after he saved the kingdom.

* * *

Cindy Rella held her nose while impatiently tapping her foot.

Drag sat beside her on the grass in the center of the courtyard and wearily eyed Barth. Sure, he was glad his friend finally found his calling, but killing flesh-eating corpses was gross. Not to mention they stunk to high heaven. He was certainly glad he’d applied extra Chanel Number Five perfume this morning. That shit could drown out almost any other scent within the radius of a wingspan. Well, almost any other scent.

He only hoped they’d be able to wash the smell of decaying zombie flesh out of his new chiffon dress. He couldn’t imagine that dry cleaning bill. Maybe Barth would get over-time pay for killing zombies.

He looked over at his friend, who was loping off heads left and right and cheering for himself while doing it.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“You should try it. Here, want my sword?” Barth held out his sword which was dripping with blood and some unidentified green matter.

Yuck.

Drag wasn’t even about to let that filth touch his new coat of nail polish. With a flick of the wrist, he waved away the sword as he leered at an approaching zombie girl who was carrying a basket of what looked like rotting fingers and toes.

Her crushed red velvet hooded cape was ripped and stained with green ooze. Drag eyed the expensive-looking material. Such a shame. He’d been meaning to have a red velvet dress made for himself—one with sleeves that draped off the shoulders. He’d have to ask his tailor, whom hopefully wasn’t eaten or a zombie, to make him one after Barth’s next payday.

As the zombie girl slowly approached the edge of Drag’s gown, he inhaled a deep rush of air and then blew out a long stream of fire. By the time he finished, all that was left of the zombie was a pile of ash.

Barth lowered his sword and stared slack-jawed at the girl’s ashes. “Oh, I guess that works, too.”

Drag shook his head. If memory served him, Big Bad Wolf was friends with the girl’s grandma, which made the child a friend of a friend of a friend. Drag wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Now this damned zombie curse was starting to affect him on a personal level.

He only hoped the wolf had managed to stay clear of this curse.

“Well, if it isn’t my old pal, Hansel.”

Drag looked up to see Barth strutting toward the bratty little blonde-haired twins, Hansel and Gretel. They slowly advanced on Barth, hands outstretched, that vacant stare in their eyes, just like all the other zombies. Hansel was missing several fingers and a nose. Gretel’s hair was matted with blood, ooze and gingerbread crumbs.

Barth was on Hansel’s paper route and the little shit was always throwing his paper in the bushes. Drag even had to retrieve the paper off Barth’s thatched roof a few times. Gretel was well known around the neighborhood for strangling abandoned kittens and other stray animals. Though most everyone else in the kingdom was fooled by their cute faces, Drag knew them better.

He also knew Barth had a long-standing axe to grind, or in this case, a sword to wield. With one swoop of his sword, both little zombie heads went flying.

“Ewww,” Cindy Rella cried before turning to Drag. “Look, is it really necessary for him to kill all these zombies? Couldn’t you just drop me off at my step-mother’s house?”

“Barth!” Drag boomed as a unicorn zombie head went flying and nearly poked him in the foot. “We need to get going.”

Barth turned to him with a gleam in his eyes. “This is just so much fun.”

“Remember our plan to save the kingdom?” Drag snickered.

“Oh, right.” Barth sheathed his sword and climbed on Drag. “Fly toward Swans Lake. That’s where we last saw the prince heading. We can drop off Cindy on the way.”

“It’s Cindy RELLLA,” the girl spat as she climbed behind Barth.

Barth turned to her with a glare. “You want to find another ride out of here?”

Her eyes widened while she emphatically shook her head.

“I didn’t think so.” Barth turned back around and straightened his shoulders. “It’s about time The Royal Zombie Slayer gets some respect around here.”

Drag laughed under his breath. He was glad to see his friend had finally found his confidence. He only hoped it wouldn’t go to his head.

After Barth and Drag had dropped off Cindy at her step-mother’s house, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that he’d never hooked up with a shallow, spoiled bitch like Cindy. She was nothing like Heather.

Barth heaved a sigh. Considering everything they’d been through in these past few chapters, he’d really feel like shit if Heather stayed a rat forever. He’d definitely never get her in the sack, plus he liked her for more than just her hot body.

Heather was the coolest girl he’d ever known, not just because she didn’t slap him when she’d found out he was trying to get in her skirts, but because she, like him, bucked the stereotype. She wasn’t the typical evil, cackling witch. She was pretty and nice and fun to be around, and he’d give anything to have real Heather back and maybe prove to her that he wasn’t a dick.

But first, he had to teach that spoiled little penis prince a lesson.

He peered over Drag’s side and saw they were nearing the lake. He pointed toward a clearing in the trees. “That looks like a good landing spot,” he yelled into the wind as it whipped his hair around his face.

Drag merely groaned beneath him.

Barth leaned over and patted Drag on the neck. “Did you hear me buddy?”

Drag groaned again. “I don’t feel so well.”

Barth’s limbs froze over in fear. What if Douchebagga’s potion really did have some nasty side effect? What if Drag’s balls were shrinking this very minute? Or worse, what if Drag was about to turn into the world’s biggest fire-breathing zombie?

“W-what’s wrong?” Barth asked through a shaky voice.

“I don’t know.” Drag let out an enormous belch. “I just feel funny.”

“I told you not to drink Douchebagga’s potion!” Barth shrieked. “If you do turn into a zombie, try to remember that all my years of heavy drinking have killed off many brain cells and I won’t make a satisfying meal.”

The flapping of Drag’s wings slowed to a near standstill and they began making a rapid descent.

“Hold on!” Drag warned.

“O-mi-god!” Barth closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Drag’s neck and held on for dear life as they began plummeting toward the ground. Funny, he thought, how he was able to wrap his entire arm-span around Drag’s enormous neck when just a few moments earlier, he could barely encompass the length of one scale. Either he was growing, or Drag was shrinking.

The faster they plummeted toward the ground, the more Drag’s neck seemed to shrink. Barth had to lean forward as Drag’s wings slapped his ass cheeks raw.

Barth opened one eye. Thankfully, their spiraling descent slowed and they were suspended mid-air by a billowing cloud. It took Barth a moment to realize the billowing cloud was actually Drag’s large gown, which was now acting as a parachute.

He and Drag were nestled in one of the many folds of the dress. He looked down at the creature he was clutching in his arms. Drag was no bigger than a Toy Poodle.

He looked up at Barth and let out a mournful roar that sounded more like a yelp, as a tiny little smoke ring slipped out of his snout.

Barth smiled down at his friend. “You are the cutest dragon I’ve ever seen.”

“This isn’t funny, Barth!” the little dragon squealed.

“Look at it this way.” Barth bit his bottom lip while trying to contain his laughter. “I’m sure you can find puppy Blahniks in your size now.”

Eventually, they floated to the ground and the heavy dress came crashing down on top of them.

Barth screamed as the air suddenly became stifling. He tried to control his gag reflex as he was overcome by what smelled like bucket-loads of Chanel Number Five. After what felt like hours of fighting to break free, Barth finally unsheathed his sword and slashed his way out of the dress.

Drag followed behind, nipping at his heels. “Hey!” he squeaked. “Did you have to rip the chiffon?” He bit Barth on the ankle.

“Ouch!” Barth jerked his foot out of Drag’s jowls. “Bad dragon!” he scolded. “The dress doesn’t fit you anymore, anyway.”

Barth scanned his surroundings. Judging by the thinning pine trees, plus the huge paved road with signs saying, ‘Swans Lake ahead’ he knew they were definitely near a large body of water.

“Come on,” he said to Drag. “Let’s see if the prince went to the lake.”

As they began their ascent up a large hill that led to the lake, Barth froze in his tracks at the distinct sound of moaning coming from the other side.

He unsheathed his sword. “Freaking zombies.” He turned toward his friend. “Watch out, Drag.”

Drag took the hint and jumped into the air, fluttering circles around Barth’s head.

Barth looked up. “See anything?”

Drag scrunched his little brow. “Yeah,” he squeaked, “but I don’t think it’s a zombie.”

“What is it?” Barth asked.

Drag shook his head and blinked. “I think it’s the world’s fattest man.”

* * *

“So let me get this straight.” Barth walked a slow circle around the prince’s giant body. “You thought if you drank the entire vial of potion, your balls would grow bigger?”

“Uhhhh,” the prince moaned.

Barth rubbed his chin as he eyed the nude pile of flesh lying supine on the shoreline. What was left of the wizard’s broom lay in splinters beneath the prince’s body, which had to weigh at least half a ton. Barth tried to discern where the prince’s flabby gut ended and where his enormous balls began.

“And instead,” he finally concluded, “your balls, ass, stomach and thighs all grew to gigantic proportions.”

“Not to mention he’s got several unsightly chins,” Drag squeaked beside him.

“Well, it serves you right, I’d say.” Barth folded his hands behind his back and continued pacing. “Now how do we save the kingdom from the zombie virus when you’ve drank all of the potion?”

“Get him to pee in the vial” Drag said, “and then get the zombies to drink the pee.”

“Are you going to be the one to lift up his skin flaps and hook the vial to his penis?” Barth looked down at his friend. Though he was still having a hard time adjusting to Drag’s tiny body, he had to admit, Drag was the cutest dragon he’d ever seen, pink toenails and all.

“Ewww.” Drag made an adorably cute sour face as he sat on his haunches and licked his paws clean. “Since you’re bigger I nominate you for the job,” he said in-between licks.

Barth couldn’t contain his smile as he pictured Drag in a little pink dress with bows on his ears. It would be so easy to find him designer dresses now. All he had to do was raid Paris Hilton’s dog’s closet. Drag would be the cutest diva in Fairytale Kingdom.