“The snow will continue through the night,” the weatherman announced. Carl huffed. He hated winter; it always made his zombie bones ache.
Marge brought a dish of warmed brains covered with blood gravy into the dining room. “Dinner’s ready!”
“Defrosted brains again?”
“Get off your half-falling-off ass and find some fresh brains!”
“I’ve half a mind to eat your brain.”
“What brain? You ate three-fourths of it the day we met!”
Carl chuckled. “It was some of the best brain I’ve ever had, too!”
“Nice to know it was up to your standards.”
“Don’t be mad. I could never eat all your brains.”
There was a knock at the door. Fresh meat!
Carl opened the door to find two shivering teenagers on the doorstep. “Our car crashed into a snow bank. Can we use your phone?” one asked.
Carl led them into the dining room, where Marge ambushed the teens. They hungrily ate the young brains and guzzled their fresh warm blood.
“Mmm! That was delicious,” Carl said when he finished.
“There’s plenty for leftovers too.”
“Ask and ye shall receive,” Carl quoted then sat by the fire. Maybe winter wasn’t so bad after all.
© December 20, 2010