EXT. PEACEABLE LIVING CEMETERY - BEFORE DAWN
(EDGAR, RED, BO)
GREG FULTON'S RIDING MOWER PUTTERS BY THE CEMETERY. THE NOISE STARTLES EDGAR AWAKE. HE IS LYING IN A GRAVE. HE STRETCHES HIS ARMS AND CLIMBS OUT OF THE GRAVE. HE LOOKS AROUND. HE HAS DUG AT LEAST TWENTY GRAVES. HE CHECKS HIS WATCH.
Woo, almost dawn.
AS EDGAR CLIMBS INTO HIS CAR, THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON RED AND BO, WHO ARE HIDING BEHIND A BUSH. RED IS SMOKING A CIGARETTE AND OBSERVING EDGAR THROUGH BINOCULARS.
Time to cut the Captain Crunch, Count Chocula. You've been feeding me a line all night about this Joe being dead. Well, the telegraph station is closed and I've got indigestion. He's walking, he's talking, he's as alive as my considerable love life.
He is the walking dead. He is one of my creations. A zombie.
Zombie, yeah, that's the guy's name, Edgar Zombie. That doesn't mean he's a...
RED MAKES A RIDICULOUS IMPERSONATION OF A ZOMBIE.
Look at how fast he dug those graves. It is because he has dug himself out of his own.
Yeah, that and a cup of coffee will get you fifty cents at a subway bus station. What'd you say your name was again?
I am a Bokor, a master of the arcane arts, summoner of the Loas of a thousand undead ancestors in the ancient medium of Vodun. I am the stealer of souls, the drinker of blood, the raiser of the dead.
I'll just call you Bo, then. There he goes. Let's go.
RED HOPS ONTO A LITTLE GIRL'S BICYCLE, COMPLETE WITH RIBBONS AND A BASKET. BO SITS UP ON THE HANDLEBARS.
Don't you have a car?
I told you, the department doesn't have much of a budget. And I keep hitting suspects so they took away my license.
THEY PEDAL OFF.
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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