• I
    had a pet zombie when I was little. His name was Dr. Envelope Bob. But when Bob randomly started to scream at the neighbor’s pet balloon, we had to give him away. I miss Bob.
    To fill the void, I started to write stories. I wrote about a deadly balloon that bit midget elephants. One day I was writing in my fifty six-story sphere-shaped house when I heard a noise. It was a low, growly noise.
    “Must be a…” I thought to myself. “Maybe a… ah…”
    I couldn’t quite remember what it was, though it sounded familiar. Then I heard a small c***k above the headboard on my triangular bed. It was a ninja star.
    “Ninjas!” I screamed. “Ninjas have invaded my spherical home! And they brought… Lions! Lions in my house!”
    “There are squirrels in my pants!” one of them screamed. Ninjas in Googleplextopia always talked in weird codes.
    “The howling cheese has arrived in wonderland!”
    “The magical pen has been sat on by a rainbow!”
    And more of them broke through the windows and screamed strange, random phrases. There was a damp, mold-type smell in the room now, brought in with the ninjas. I think it was because it was raining outside.
    A lion wearing a top hat and tap shoes started to sing Beach Boys songs. He sounded like a cat in a dishwasher after being chased by a giant mouse.
    Then I heard a meteorologist yelling out that it would be rainy tomorrow, and an investigative report on chalk dust by someone named Dabobra McSnuffy. It was then that I realized that I was in my living room, half awake on the couch. It was a comfortable couch, purple leather with green spots. I had been covered with a heavy, red wool blanket. Mumsy must have put it there.
    “Bubbles, get up! You will be late for school!”
    That’s right, laugh all you want. My name is Bubbles. I am a Class 36 zombie and I go to Zomborombo Middle School. I have nice greenish-brown decaying skin and a full head of hair and maggots. My nose is missing, but whatever. Once in gym we were playing volleyball and my arm fell off, you know.
    I proceeded to pack up all my homework, books, and random stuff that I didn’t really need. Among the books were Into the Eyes of the Ninja and Balloon Keeping for Dummies. For my homework, I had to write a one page essay on ninjas and I had to practice spelling.
    I chose to wear a pair of torn jeans and a nice, ragged purple cotton shirt. We were going to watch a play today and we had to look nice. I found my worn sneakers and slipped them on. The laces used to be white, but now they were brown, with the aglets missing.
    I dressed nervously, for yesterday I had seen a ninja clad in orange (in real life, not just in my dream). He threatened to beat me up if he ever so me again, so I flipped him off. He got really mad. I wonder why…?
    ◊ ◊ ◊
    I got beat up several times that day, actually. I was walking to school when a car pulled up next to me and told me to get in the backseat. Ninjas, of course. They said something about candy and puppies. I tried to run away, but they got out of the car, caught me, and tazered me. Bzzz!
    I continued walking, feeling slightly shocked, when I came to Nichard Rixon’s house. The trained fighter/gardener was yelling at a large blob of something. The monster dramatically screamed at the deadly gardener. Then Rixon kicked the monster’s butt and randomly started kicking his car, which burst into flames. He was on fire, and then pointed at me. A giant floating baby head suddenly appeared and tried to eat me. I got away though.
    I made it to school, surprisingly still in one piece. I went through all my classes without incident. But after school… That’s when the trouble began.
    I saw a ninja walking toward me. He was wearing orange ninja clothes.
    Crap.