Greatest Zombie Movie Ever

by Jeff Strand

  “Come on, Hank. This is ten times as much blood as one body can hold, and you know it. Not to mention that the victim only has an eye and a stomach wound. They’d eventually bleed out, but they aren’t going to spray all over the road like this. The artistry is impressive. I’ll give them that. But if we were investigating this particular crime scene, we’d know immediately that there was more to the story than we’d been told.”

  “In this scene, yes, we were taking a stylized approach,” said Justin. “But if you two wanted to be our consultants, we could really use your expertise.”

  The officers exchanged a look.

  “We’re supposed to be doing some community outreach anyway,” said Officer Hank. “I think this qualifies.”

  “If a real crime is committed, we’ll have to leave obviously, even if it’s in the middle of a shot,” said the second officer. “Saving real people has to take priority over killing fake ones.”

  “I completely understand.”

  “Who wants a hug?” asked Mr. Pamm, walking around in his bloody suit with open arms. He was in a weirdly jolly mood. Maybe he’d been angry all of this time because nobody ever invited him to participate in something cool.

  “Thanks, Bobby,” said Justin. “You did great.”

  “I’m traumatized forever.”

  “No, you’re fine. But the scene will traumatize viewers forever.”

  “Can I take a shower now?”

  “No. Uncle Clyde doesn’t have a working shower in his home anymore. Thanks to the cops being here, lots of his neighbors are watching what’s happening, so your job is to get all of those gawkers to play zombies.”

  “I can still feel the syrup running down the back of my shirt.”

  “Man up,” Justin told him. He waved Spork over. “I want you to get footage of this true hero. He didn’t risk his life, but when that syrup dries all over his body, it’s going to be really itchy and uncomfortable. And he didn’t complain even once.”

  “Half of today’s footage is of him complaining,” said Spork.

  “We’ll bleep it out. Not many people would make this kind of sacrifice for the art. I sure wouldn’t have let anybody pour that much blood on me or chew on real sheep guts. Bobby did. And for this, I salute him.”

  “I salute you, Bobby,” said Spork.

  “I’ll go see if I can get more zombies,” said Bobby, walking away.

  Spork pointed the camera at Justin. “So after your first big shot of the day, how are you feeling?”

  Justin smiled. “For the first time, I feel like we’re achieving true greatness.”

  26

  Bobby got another ten people to agree to be zombies. And miraculously they found a thirteen-year-old girl named Cindy who wanted to go to a beauty academy someday, so they put her to work making up the background zombies, the ones who didn’t need gruesome appliances stuck to their faces.

  Alicia and Christopher were here to shoot the final scene of the movie. Not the last scene they had to shoot for the movie—there were so many scenes left that whenever he thought about it, Justin’s stomach dropped like he was plummeting down the first hill of a roller coaster—but the final dramatic shot, where Veronica Chaos and Runson Mudd stood together on a street littered with the countless zombies they’d killed and the camera slowly pulled back until the screen cut to black. This would be followed by the best part of the entire movie, namely the credit that said, “Directed by Justin Hollow.”

  Okay, they weren’t just standing together.

  They were kissing.

  Justin was not a fan of the kissing scene.

  “It’s too predictable,” he’d said. “If two people have fallen in love, the audience is going to expect them to kiss, so why don’t we subvert expectations and have them not kiss?”

  “So…what? You want the payoff to their whole relationship to be them doing a fist bump?”

  “Why can’t they just gaze dramatically off into the horizon? That’s what I’d be doing in their situation. I’d be looking boldly toward the future, not trying to snog somebody.”

  “We’ve already discussed this,” Gabe had said. “It’s a kiss between two actors playing fictional characters we created for them. If you can’t handle that, you shouldn’t be a director.”

  And so Alicia, lovely Alicia, and Christopher were standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, while the actors playing zombies lay on the pavement. A couple of them had asked for pillows, but Justin had explained that it stretched credibility too much for them to have been killed and then fallen on top of a comfy pillow. Uncle Clyde went around, dousing them with blood and scattering body parts all over.

  “Camera ready?” Justin asked Gabe.

  “Ready.”

  “Slate.”

  Daisy did her slate, once again without pinching anything in the clapboard.

  “Action!”

  Gabe very slowly began to walk backward.

  Alicia and Christopher had no lines. This was where the final music would swell. All they had to do was turn to each other, look into each other’s eyes, and then share a gentle kiss.

  They turned to each other.

  Looked into each other’s eyes.

  Leaned into each other.

  And shared a gentle kiss.

  A gentle kiss that seemed to be going on a bit long, but that was okay. Justin wasn’t jealous. Honestly their lips were barely even touching, and he thought he might have even detected a faint trace of disgust in Alicia’s expression. It was probably because of the blood instead of the person she was kissing, but Justin would take the disgust any way he could get it.

  “Whoops,” said Gabe. “Aw, jeez, I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  “I stumbled over something. We’ll have to do it again.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, it’s hard to walk backward and keep the shot steady. I’m really sorry.” Gabe looked genuinely apologetic. This betrayal had not been on purpose. That didn’t mean Justin forgave him, but at least it had been an accident.

  “All right,” said Justin, remaining professional. “How about we practice the shot without the kissing part a few times just to make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

  “No, it’s okay,” said Gabe. “There was a severed hand on the ground.”

  “We should practice anyway. It’s disrespectful to the actors if we make them repeat shots multiple times because we on the crew aren’t fully prepared.”

  “We’re fine,” said Christopher. “We’ll do as many takes as you want.”

  “Back to your places then. Camera ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Slate.”

  Daisy did the slate. Even though Justin was all business on the set, he really didn’t understand how she could keep doing the slate without at least once pretending that she’d pinched her nose in it. Everybody enjoyed that joke.

  “Action!”

  Gabe began to walk backward again.

  Alicia and Christopher turned to each other, gazed into each other’s eyes, and shared a gentle kiss.

  Then it stopped being such a gentle kiss.

  “Ow!” said one of the zombies who’d asked for a pillow. He sat up, clutching his leg. “Leg cramp!”

  “Is he in the shot?” Justin asked Gabe.

  Gabe stopped walking. “Yeah.”

  “Cut!”

  Alicia and Christopher separated, though not as quickly as Justin would have preferred.

  “You’re out of the scene,” Justin told the zombie.

  “You try lying on the pavement without getting a leg cramp!”

  “Go. You can still have cookies, but I need you out of my shot.”

  The zombie stood up and limped out of the shot.

  “Anybody else getting leg
cramps?” Justin asked.

  “My legs are fine,” said one of the zombies, “but this liver by my head is really distracting. Can somebody move it?”

  “No. The liver stays.”

  “Can it at least not be glistening?”

  “All right, fine. Anybody who is uncomfortable with the internal organs lying next to them is welcome to move, but do it now.”

  Several of the zombies moved to new places on the street.

  “Does it still look like the aftermath of a zombie massacre?” Justin asked Gabe.

  Gabe peered through the camera. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Action!”

  Alicia and Christopher turned to each other, gazed into each other’s eyes, and went straight into a passionate kiss.

  Gabe slowly walked backward.

  The heroine and hero put their arms around each other, still kissing. Justin watched them carefully, ready to call, “Cut!” if he saw any tongue.

  “Wow, they’re really going at it,” Uncle Clyde whispered.

  “Shhhh.”

  “Should I call one of the fire engines back so we can turn the hose on them?”

  “Seriously. Shhhh.”

  “I see saliva.”

  Justin looked over at Gabe, making very sure that there was nothing behind him that might cause him to stumble. There was absolutely no way they were doing this scene again. If the final scene of their movie involved the cameraman tripping, so be it.

  “Do we have the shot?” Justin asked.

  Gabe shook his head and continued walking backward.

  Alicia and Christopher were even making soft moaning sounds while they kissed. What was wrong with them? Who told them to relate so well to their characters?

  Justin’s face burned, and it was probably even redder than the faces of the people who were covered in blood. But he would not call, “Cut!” until Gabe had the complete shot. He was a professional. He was not jealous. He was not jealous. He was not jealous.

  He was not jealous.

  He, Justin Hollow, was not jealous.

  Justin Hollow, director of this movie, was not jealous.

  He was not jealous.

  He was not jealous.

  Maybe he felt a smidgen of mild envy. But not jealousy.

  Not jealousy. Not jealousy. Not jealousy. Not jealousy.

  Hank the police officer chuckled. “If they keep this up, I may have to arrest them for indecent behavior.”

  Was Christopher dipping her? It looked like he was dipping her a little. This was unacceptable! A gentle kiss! That’s what Justin had instructed them to do! Didn’t they realize that he’d have to watch this over and over during the editing process? It was cruel and unusual punishment!

  Couldn’t Gabe walk backward any faster? Why did the camera need to pull back slowly for their final shot? What was wrong with the camera pulling back quickly? Audiences didn’t need to watch those two going at it like slobbering beasts.

  “She’s kneading his back,” Bobby whispered. “Was she supposed to do that?”

  “No, she was not.”

  “See, you were all worried that they wouldn’t have any chemistry, but that’s the most chemistry I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “No, I said that they would have chemistry.”

  “Oh. Well, you were right. Because look at them!”

  “You do remember that I have feelings for Alicia, right?”

  “Still?”

  “Yes!”

  “Oh, I thought you were over that. So everything I’ve been saying for the past fifteen seconds has sounded really heartless. I’m sorry about that, though it kind of serves you right for making me eat the eyeball.”

  “I made you chew the eyeball, not eat it.”

  “I accidentally swallowed it when I put the intestine in my mouth. I wasn’t going to say anything unless I started choking.”

  “Can we have this discussion later?”

  “Yeah, sure thing.”

  “And…I’ve got it,” said Gabe.

  “Cut!” said Justin.

  Alicia and Christopher did not separate.

  “Cut!” Justin repeated.

  Their lips remained locked together.

  Okay, enough was enough. Justin understood the good fortune Christopher was experiencing right now, but it wasn’t appropriate to stand there, slobbering all over each other after the director called, “Cut!” twice. If they wanted to keep going at it, they could at least have the courtesy to crawl down into burnt ruins of Uncle Clyde’s basement so nobody else would have to witness their animalistic cravings.

  Justin stormed over to them. “So hey, remember that time a few seconds ago that I called, ‘Cut?’ It’s something we film directors say to indicate that the on-camera action no longer needs to continue. I assumed that you were aware of this, but perhaps a reminder is necessary. Maybe I could get the production designer to come up with some visual aids. Oh, wait. We don’t have a production designer, so I guess you’ll have to figure out on your own that when I say… Hey, are you two okay?” Justin stopped the flow of sarcasm as he realized that Christopher was frantically gesturing to their lips.

  Christopher said something that was muffled. Alicia added something that was equally muffled.

  “Hey, Uncle Clyde? Could you come here a second. I think the fake blood dried, and they can’t get their lips apart.”

  Uncle Clyde rushed over and looked at them. “Yep, that’s what happened all right.”

  “Well, fix it.”

  “Hand me the rubbing alcohol.”

  “Where is it?”

  “You brought some, right?”

  “No, I assumed you had it.”

  “Mine was lost in the fire. It might have been what caused the fire actually. That stuff is pretty flammable.”

  “You two aren’t suffocating, right?” Justin asked.

  Alicia and Christopher shook their heads as one.

  “Should we try to pull them apart?”

  “Nope,” said Uncle Clyde. “That’s a good way for one of them to lose a set of lips. Believe me. You don’t want the legal hassles that go with that kind of thing.”

  “Do any of you zombies have rubbing alcohol?”

  One of the female zombies sat up. “I’ve got a bottle, but it’s at home. I only live a few houses down. I’ll go get it.”

  “Thanks.”

  The zombie hurried off. Justin wasn’t sure if he should continue to be consumed with jealousy over the Alicia-Christopher situation. Probably not. They didn’t seem to be having a very good time.

  “I know you’ve got an issue right now,” said Gabe, “but the shot looks fantastic. Totally worth it. Assuming, y’know, that there’s no permanent damage to their lips.”

  • • •

  The rubbing alcohol did the trick. When Alicia and Christopher’s lips came apart, Justin got the impression that neither one of them was in any rush to attempt another kiss.

  Justin knew that it was evil for him to be happy about this, but sometimes you just had to be evil.

  27

  “Make sure you get a close-up of the logo,” said Justin.

  “I am,” Gabe assured him, zooming in on the Monkey Burger sign.

  “It needs to look appealing.”

  “It’s completely appealing.”

  “Go inside and get a few shots of people enjoying their food. Try not to get any close-ups of the actual food because it never looks edible, but get seven or eight shots of smiling faces.”

  “Do you want me to ask somebody to rub their tummy in satisfaction?”

  “No. If they ask what you’re doing, say that you’re getting footage for one of those restaurant shows. Tell them that later today the host is going to take the Monkey Burger challenge and eat a tw
elve-pound burger in half an hour. Nobody will leave if they think they’ll get to witness that.”

  “I’ll be back.” Gabe went inside with the camera.

  “Are you about ready?” Justin asked Christopher.

  Christopher applied some more ChapStick. “Yeah.”

  They were about to shoot a flashback sequence showing Runson Mudd’s first encounter with the living dead. The crowd of zombies stood behind Justin, waiting for their cue.

  Since they’d had so much difficulty recruiting extras, Justin had decided that perhaps they should utilize actors who were not necessarily aware that they were in a movie. It was entirely possible that one or both of the police officers would have discouraged this, but fortunately they’d been called away to investigate an armed robbery.

  The owner of Monkey Burger was okay with the scene as long as the film didn’t try to imply that human flesh tasted better than his hamburgers. Justin had assured him that it wouldn’t.

  “And if any of the zombies are eating guts, you need to make it clear that these are guts from a person and that they’re not eating a burger. I don’t want potential customers thinking that our burgers look like guts.”

  “They won’t.”

  “And you can’t do a scene where a zombie is eating guts and then changes his mind and starts eating a burger instead,” the owner had said. “That sounds like it’s a compliment, but it’s still too close of an association between our burgers and human guts. If I see that on the big screen, you’ll be hearing from my attorney.”

  “It’s time,” Justin said to Christopher. “Go in, sit down, and act natural.”

  Christopher applied one last layer of ChapStick and went into the restaurant.

  “Listen up, zombies,” said Justin. “It’s very important that we get this in one take, so please no giggling, no matter how hilarious the customers’ terror is. Do not bite anybody for real. I repeat, do not bite anybody. Some of the customers may have pepper spray, so I need all of you to be on high alert. Don’t knock any trays of food to the floor if customers are still eating because we’ll have to buy them new lunches then. Are there any questions?”

  “Is the production insured in case somebody gets injured?” asked one of the zombies.