There’s the old ribbing joke by locals that tourists are an adorable, yet mostly harmless breed of dim. They wander around in fanny-packs, pulled-up socks, sun-hats (or emergency ponchos), cargo shorts and Timberland boots, pointing out things while holding impossibly-sized maps.
In short, they have no brains.
So why would we zombies waste our (clearly infinite amounts of) time chasing these equally feckless populations?
It was Saturday, October 8th. I recall it was unseasonably warm that day. The heat was wavy, you know, like it is in old war movies. I felt that my intestines, which were falling out slightly, could use a bit of sun, so I decided to go for a little walk. Being a ballerina, I found that the easiest way to get a hold of them was to wrap them around my leg in a criss-cross fashion, such as what a ballerina would do with her ballet shoe ribbons.
I could tell that I was drawing some attention from some of the screaming children in the park, because they didn’t quite understand why I was limping (I know, I know, I’m such a cliche). Feeling a bit slighted by their rudeness, I let out a half-hearted whimper and glared to make up for it.
Finally getting to the Haunted Biz-Baz (October street fair) on Essex St, I noticed there were other fellow zombies trying to make their way through the crowds. My rancid, half-decomposed heart sank a little as I realized that none of the street vendors were selling any brains.
En masse, we stumbled in circles downtown (what awesome crop circles we could have made…if only we’d had the grey matter to have thought of that) and came across some Steampunk kids holding a brain on a stick to try to control our movements. Some of us weren’t falling for it and took down a few Slytherin students in protest.
The Lobster Shanty had deployed a brave girl to offer us real live calf brain burgers for free, to appease us. Being a relatively new zombie, I still maintained some of my original vegetarian leanings, and politely declined with an open-mouthed gape. One of the Shanty’s patrons was unfazed by what I thought to be my pant-wetting, menacing gaze, and instead burst into fits of laughter upon realizing that she was in a staring contest with a zombie ballerina. And lost.
We then happened upon a raving Southern preacher, who was advising all the tourists that spending their money on haunted houses, being witches, being homosexual, and other stuff would make us all burn in hell unless we accept Jesus Christ (who would never have said that to anyone). Despite the fact that he was in a large open space, many of the zombies (even the pus-covered, desperate ones) realized there was nothing there to eat and moved on.
We then turned our attention back to the tourists, lashing out at them for being warm, breathing, living bodies, but teasing us with their complete lack of substance, despite their large number. They stood and took photos of us.
It was then that we realized that…they were just like us.
Please find the following information presented in this handy-dandy table for your reading pleasure:
| Zombies and Tourists
|Almost always have difficulty communicating in any language
||Often have difficulty communicating in anything other than their own language
|Always eating; tend to only eat brains, sometimes flesh
||Always eating; tend to eat only what they’re used to with little local variety
|Often have terrible sense of direction; frequently allow brains to be smashed in with sharp/blunt objects (thereby killing them) without resistance
||Often drive the wrong way down one-way streets; frequently walk into oncoming traffic to cross streets without looking
||Very loud; very obnoxious
|Often travel in large groups; horde mentality
||Often travel in large groups (and/or in large vehicles); horde mentality achieved once they stop in the middle of a busy street to plan their next move
So there you have it. Not that I’m being heavy-handed or anything.
Looking back on our mass
infestation day out, what I thought distinguished us from other zombies was that we attracted a surprising number of out-of-town corpses, who all stayed in local hotels, ate in local restaurants, spent their maggot-infested cash at the local street fair, terrorized several local shops and museums, and amused locals and tourists alike, who were more than welcoming to our putrefying stench. We look forward to next year.
Just don’t tell the vampires. Those sparkly bastards keep stealing our food and ruining our party.
his jell-o brings all the zombies to the yard.