Monday, March 23, 2015

HOW NOT TO TRAIN A ZOMBIE!!!





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Excerpt from HOW NOT TO TRAIN A ZOMBIE!!! 

An older model, dirty white utility van was parked in the gravel driveway next to a green truck with a blue tarp draped over the cab. The large, bold lettering on the side of the van was easy to read in spite of the thick layer of dirt.

Pratt’s Extermination
We take care of all your ZOMBIE problems!
Day or Night
Call
830-207-DEAD

Max grinned as he read the sign painted on the side of the van. “That’s so cool!” he said in an awe filled voice. Then he saw the sign on the driver’s door.

No ZOMBIE too big,
too small, or too rotten
for us to haul.

“That’s got to be the coolest job anyone can have. If my dad was a zombie exterminator, I would be bragging to everyone,” Max said as he slid off his bicycle and pushed it up the driveway.
Max paused at the back of the van. Standing up on the tips of his toes he tried looking in the back of it, hoping to get a glimpse of something—preferably a zombie. Preoccupied with trying to see something, he didn’t hear the crunch, crunch on the gravel.
“What are you doing?”
Max jumped back away from the van as if it were too hot to touch. “I wasn’t doing anything.”


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