Zombiekins 2(25)

Inside the metal box was another box, all covered over with tape. As Stanley lifted it out, Fetch let out a pathetic yowl and scurried away into the hall dribbling a trail of pee.





Stanley was relieved to find Zombiekins still in its box. Of course, the instructions said it would remain a harmless stuffy as long as it wasn’t exposed to direct moonlight—but Stanley was not the kind of boy who liked taking chances. He fingered the taffy hanging from a string around his neck as he locked Zombiekins back up in the metal box in his closet. On his way out of the room, he tripped over an empty box by his bed, but didn’t think anything of it.





In the toy room down the hall, meanwhile, Rosalie was playing tea party with her favorite stuffies.

There was a chair for Benny the Dinosaur and another chair for his head. Whimsy was sitting in a pool of his own stuffing and Schlemmo, looking like he had been ripped apart and not-too-expertly put back together again, was propped up in a chair with ropes. While Rosalie pretended to pour the tea, one of Schlemmo’s arms fell off and plopped onto his saucer.

“Bad Schlemmo!” Rosalie scolded. “Elbows off the table.”

It was getting dark and the moon was climbing the sky outside the playroom window by the time Rosalie’s mother finally called her to bed. After that, it wasn’t long before Stanley and his family were all sound asleep—except for Fetch, who spent the night pacing the upstairs hall.

Outside, the night was still and the little town of Dementedyville was once again the quiet, uneventful place it always had been. The sort of place where nothing exciting or out of the ordinary ever happened. And now that Zombiekins was safely locked up in Stanley’s closet, that was how it would probably stay.

Probably....