Zombie Apocalypse, the Musical!

This is a work of fiction. No real people, places or events were used. Copyright ã 2011 Plot Roach.

Zombie Apocalypse, the Musical!

By Plot Roach

“Can you tell me what happened here, ma’am?” Officer Matthews asked, eyeing the carnage on the stage.

“The play got a little out of hand.” Meredith admitted, kicking a severed foot out of her way so that she could sit down on the only non- bloodied part of the wooden floor.

“I can see that. But what I want to know is HOW it got this way. Can you give me any details?”

“What did the others say when you interviewed them?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

“The director is in a huff because no one followed the script. And half the audience in in hysterics because the other half of the audience had allegedly been ‘consumed’.”

“I always wanted to perform at a dinner theater instead of some sloppy little community house.” Meredith sighed. Now it was Officer Matthews turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, bad joke. I’ll admit it. But that’s all I will admit to. At least until I see my lawyer.”

“I’m not sure that you need one. I think you might need a priest or a mortician more.” he said, pointing to one of the restrained zombies currently stretching against its bonds to try and feast on the living walking around it.

“This won’t be held against me?” she asked.

“I don’t see how any sane person could believe it, much less a jury. No one is going to convict you of something that doesn’t exist. And yet does…”

“It started when a friend of mine, Sarah Finch, wanted to put on a musical as part of her theater arts major in college.”

“That would be the local college here in town?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please continue.” The officer said.

“Well, she was trying to brainstorm a good idea that would be accepted by the general public but at the same time was something intriguing and unique. People like musical, and zombies seem to be a popular genre, so we decided to put them together. We hired a friend as a writer and soon we had a script. All we needed were some actors, some special effects and a stage.”

“And what was your role in this?”

“Producer and procurer. I made sure we found the right people for the right things, made sure everyone got paid who needed to be and worked last minute miracles for everything in between before we pulled the curtains open on the first night.”

“And the zombies?” Officer Matthews asked. “Where did they come in? And who is responsible for them?”

“That would be Ezra White.”

“And you would be able to pick him out of a lineup?”

“Actually he’s right over there. Or what’s left of him is, anyway.”

“And his job here was what exactly?”

“He was supposed to find people to be the zombies and get them all ready with makeup and the prosthetics and stuff. We told him that we wanted it to be as realistic as possible. But I guess he took it a little too far.”

“So you have no idea what he did to cause this?”

“Actually I do, but I thought he was just kidding us at the time. He said that he found this ‘Lazarus’ spell in some offshoot holy book that was close to the Dead Sea Scrolls in age or something. He said it was like some missing part of the Bible, or something.”

“Did he say what he did to make them zombies?” the officer asked.

“He said that the bodies had to be dead for three days and then the spell would bring them back to life. But he only had part of the spell, not the whole thing, so he didn’t know if it would work. But if Jesus could do it way back when, he should be able to do it easily with today’s technology. Or something like that.” Meredith said, studying the grime under her nails with a look of distaste.

“Where did he get the bodies?” the officer asked. “Were they alive when he started his little -er- project?”

“I have no idea, really. But he did volunteer at the local soup kitchen. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed the numbers of the local homeless declining, but last night I made it all the way from the supermarket to my parked car, and no one asked me for spare change.” Meredith said with a pointed look.

“So the zombies did all of this damage?”

“Yes.”

“And all of this happened when?”

“Act two, about midway through.” she said. “Ezra billed himself as the ‘zombie wrangler’, and he had a cage full of these guys ready to go just off stage. When he heard his cue, he popped the door open on the cage, but instead of rushing the actors, they mobbed the audience. People thought it was part of the play, at first. But then the body count started rising and people ran for the door.” Meredith explained. “And by the way, more people were harmed being trampled by their fellow audience members, than were maimed by the zombies.”

“I’ll be sure to put that in my report, ma’am.” The officer said, quickly writing her words in his notebook.

“What else can you tell me?”

“Everyone who was part of the show, besides the walking dead that is, will be listed in the flyer for the musical.” She handed him a simple leaflet, two eight by ten pages folded in half and stapled down the middle to form four pages. Inside was indeed all the people involved in the show from the quirky producer he now questioned to the two women in charge of wardrobe. Across the front of the booklet was a black and white picture of the undead, as well as a splash of red across the picture to simulate blood to form the title: “Zombie Apocalypse, The Musical!”