Monster Burger: A zombie horror comedy (24/7 Demon Mart)

by D. M. Guay

  Geesh. Shows you how gourmet I was. I thought the new recipes tasted like crap.

  “What are you talking about? It's better than ever. Speaking of, I hope that line moves fast. I'm starving.” Kevin paced back and forth across the window ledge, staring at Monster Burger. Although, maybe pacing wasn't the right word. More like slugging. He wasn't as sleek and fast as he used to be. I had watched him eat at least two Monster Burger combos per shift this week, and I had a feeling he ate even more off hours. The calories were starting to show. Kevin had become a wide load, if you get my drift. He was as big around as he was long, and thicker. Much, much thicker, with full blown muffin tops rolling over each of his body segments. The poor guy was one french fry away from his own show on TLC.

  “You're no slim pickings yourself.” He glared at me. “Make yourself useful and finish stocking the frozen dinners.”

  Sigh. Fine. I shuffled off to the very end of the cooler, where we housed our selection of premade plastic wrapped sandwiches and single serve frozen dinners.

  When I rounded the end cap, I jumped. Oh shit! We had a customer! I didn't know how this guy managed to sneak past us. A dude, big and juicy at six feet four and four hundred pounds, leaned against an open cooler door, staring at the six packs like they were the most fascinating thing on the planet.

  I looked at DeeDee. DeeDee looked at me. I pointed at the customer, all “WTF?”

  She shrugged and pointed at the clock, indicating that it was not yet midnight ergo this was weird but probably fine, then stuck her nose right back into Dante's Guide to Flora of the Lower Circles. Did I mention Larry wasn't looking so hot? He'd turned a bit brown and had started to wilt.

  That's when I spotted two naked pixies fluttering down the candy aisle, making out, looking for a safe place to bang. Ugh. I didn't know which was worse. Knowing the pixies were back or knowing the little jerks were having way more sex than I ever would.

  Look. I would like to say that I did the right thing here. That I grabbed a net and went after the pixies. I'd like to say I did a flip in the air and had them in that net in one swoop like DeeDee, but come on. Let's be honest. I could jump and grunt and wave a net around all night, and I'd never catch a pixie. They'd just flutter a little higher. So I turned back around and stacked those cardboard trays of frozen macaroni and cheese into the slot like the pixies weren't even there.

  That's when Morty stepped out of the beer cave buck naked, and I mean full-on birthday suit, junk hanging out for all to see. Nekkid naked.

  “Morty!” DeeDee snapped. “Where are your clothes? We have a customer. Cover up!”

  “Sure thing, sweet tits, but first, do you like what you see?” His eyebrows wiggled as he pointed both index fingers straight at his...ahem. When it became clear that DeeDee had not changed her mind upon seeing the goods, he huffed and grabbed a bag of tortilla chips off an end cap and held it over his junk.

  “Why are you naked?” DeeDee whispered.

  “I can't decide what to wear, and I have to nail it tonight. Literally nail it. Somebody. Anybody. I'm starving. I haven't had sex in a week! The bar's been empty. I really gotta wow the ladies. I need a sure thing. I gotta get a read on the crowd. Just gimme a minute to check it out.”

  He moseyed—bare naked, apart from a bag of chips, right on past Big Juicy to the far wall adjoining the Temptations Tavern. He bent over, stuck his nose to the drywall, and drew in a long sniff. Full moon on display. Big Juicy, our lone customer, didn't notice. Lucky him.

  “Hmm. A book club. Okay. I think I got it,” Morty declared. He waltzed, buck naked, past our oblivious human customer, right back into the beer cave.

  Boy. Those craft brews must be fascinating because Big Juicy didn't give Morty a second look.

  Morty returned a minute later. In clothes. “What do ya think? Panty dropper?”

  My jaw dropped. Did that count?

  Morty looked like he'd just stepped off the cover of a romance novel. And not like a firefighter or cop. More like a pirate. His hair was flowy and blond. Don't ask me how he did that trick. He wore leather pants with a big belt buckle and a white shirt with no collar and a ruffled lapel. I'm pretty sure the last guy who pulled off that look was Prince.

  DeeDee shook her head. “Try again.”

  “You're kidding. Horny book club housewives love bad boys!”

  “Yeah. But it's not 1750. Try something a little more current.”

  “Women. You all are impossible to please.” Morty huffed, turned on his heel, and stepped right back into the beer cave.

  That's when I caught site of the pixie dude poking his head out from behind a bag of Bugles. He looked right at me and knocked all the bags off the little metal hanger. Like he wanted to remind me that he'd already defeated me in battle with that pointy, spicy snack. Bugles binked and bopped all over the floor. The pixie flew up and away.

  Dammit. I followed him, trying to grab him. He locked eyes with me and knocked the trail mix and Combos bags off their hangers one at a time, leaving a trail of broken bits in his wake. Henrietta was right. These jerks held a grudge. He hovered in the air right behind Big Juicy, who still couldn't decide which beer he wanted.

  I moved in on the pixie. He shouted at me in his teeny voice. Morty stepped out of the beer cave. The pixie looked at him, and my hand snapped out to snatch him. Ha! I got you!

  Or not. The ginger pixie zipped up and away. All I'd managed to do was hit Big Juicy smack between the shoulder blades. Oh shit. He was gonna squash me like a grape.

  “I'm so sorry, sir.” My voice shook, prepping to sweet talk my way out of an ass kicking. But he still didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He just stood there, head in the cooler, staring down the beer.

  “Whatda ya think?” Morty wore a very expensive looking suit, tailored tight, and a tie.

  “Much better,” DeeDee said. “Very fifty shades of Morty. Go get 'em stud.”

  “You know it.” Morty said.

  DeeDee straightened Morty's tie.

  Big Juicy moaned. “Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnn. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

  We all turned to look.

  “Is he okay?” DeeDee asked.

  “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuug.”

  Did he just say bug? I looked around. I didn't see Kevin.

  “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrg.”

  Burger? There was a Monster Burger bag on the floor by his tan work boot. It looked like he'd dropped it there. It was rustling. Shit. Demons. No, wait. Kevin stepped out, pulling the jagged remains of a crooked, burned french fry behind him.

  “Man. The fat bastard ate every last crumb. This is all that's left!” He shook his head, then opened his mouth and shoved that fry right in. He swallowed it whole, looked at Big Juicy and said, “God doggit. Is this guy possessed?”

  “What?” If a human could be both on fire and freezing cold from terror, body dripping with sweat and mouth bone dry all at the same time, well, that was me right now. Possessed? Dear Baby Jesus, why are you doing this to me?

  Angel eight ball rolled out of aisle five and looked right at me. “Leave Baby Jesus out of this.” Then he rolled away.

  “Woo boy. He's a big un, ain't he?” Morty sized up Big Juicy as he straightened his cuff links. “I'd help out but I gotta get the ladies while the wine is flowing. Good luck.”

  “Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnn. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu.” Big juicy groaned, eyes still on the beer.

  DeeDee whispered, “I'll grab the taser, you double check.”

  “Double what?”

  “His eyes! Remember Caroline? Weird eyes, weird drool equals possessed. Now go.”

  She tucked and rolled toward the safe, silent as a ninja. I stared at Big Juicy's back. Gulp. The man was gigantic. A burly hulk of a man. He looked like he could pull an eighteen wheeler out of a ditch all by himself. There really needed to be a height and weight limit on demonic possessions.

  I slid to the right, far enough to get a side view of Big Juicy's face.

  “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu.” He moane
d.

  Huh. He was drooling, but it was normal clear drool, but a lot of it. Enough to get his chin wet. His eyes looked normal, too. They weren't all white, all black, red, glowing or glazed over. They were normal eyes, just open really wide and staring at a microbrew six pack. Well, not at it, more like through it. Huh. He didn't seem possessed. “Sir? Can I help you with the beer?”

  “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

  “Sir? Are you all right?”

  “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

  I touched his massive meaty shoulder, and he slowly turned toward me. We locked eyes. His were still blank, like he only half understood that someone stood in front of him.

  “Do you need help?” That was as specific as I could get, really. Seriously. I was trying to keep this cazh and normal. I couldn't just flat out ask, “Sir, are you possessed by a demon and do you need my unholy assistance?”

  His wide, blank eyes looked right at me and said, “Muuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnssstrrrrrrrr. Buuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr.”

  “Oh, my God. He's so drunk!” Kevin stood next to Big Juicy's takeout bag with his legs on his hips. He called to DeeDee, who was slinking back up the row with a bottle of holy water in one hand and a taser in the other. “False alarm. The guy's not possessed. He's totally shit faced. Sorry, pal. This Bud's not for you. Kid, don't sell him any beer, okay? I ain't paying a fine.”

  “Muuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnssstrrrrrrrr. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr?” Big Juicy's eyebrows wrinkled. He looked like a sad, desperate puppy.

  “Huh. I don't think he wants beer. I think he wants Monster Burger? Here.” I leaned down and grabbed his takeout bag off the floor. Oof. Kevin was right. Totally empty. Nothing but wrappers and memories in there.

  I handed it to him. Big Juicy looked at it for a moment, then slowly opened the bag. Dude. He was drunk. He swayed and moved so so so slowly. When he saw the bag was empty, his eyebrows squinched together and his eyes went even bigger, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. “Buuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr?”

  “Sorry, man. It's all gone.”

  He stomped a boot. “Muuuuuuuuuunnnnnnssstrrrrrrrr. Buuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr.”

  Okay, then. I gently turned him around and shuffled him to the front door. “Monster Burger is still open. You can go get another burger. See?”

  I pointed at the neon Frankenstein. His eyes went wide when he saw the glow of that yellow burger bun.

  “Muuuuuuuuuuunnnnssstrrrrrrrr? Buuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr?” He sounded hopeful.

  “Yep. That's right. Monster Burger. Right over there.”

  I held the door open for him. He shuffled out, making his way slowly but steadily across the lot, his wide eyes fixed on that neon sign. He shuffled straight to the end of the line, which hadn't gotten any shorter. He stood at the back, staring up at that neon yellow burger in the sky. They all did. No one in line talked. No one looked at their phone. They all just stood there waiting patiently, silently, staring up at the sign.

  Kevin leaned against the door frame, rubbing his portly carapace. “Kid, I better run across the street and nab me a burger before Big Juicy eats them all. I'm starving.”

  Chapter 16

  After Big Juicy and Morty left the store, we turned our attention to the Larries. Something was seriously wrong. Their leaves had curled up, and all the stalks drooped. We tried to feed the babies Spanish fly, but they just turned up their noses. Well, they didn't have noses, but you get the idea.

  I spritzed the little Larries with a plant mister while DeeDee combed through the book.

  “I don't know what's wrong. It says he might need an occasional supplement during a high-stress pregnancy, but what kind of supplement? It doesn't say!” DeeDee snapped the book shut. “Dammit. These stupid books are so confusing. The instructions are never straightforward.”

  She handed me the book and grabbed Larry's tray of rotten ground beef off the hot foods island. And I mean rotten. Dude. It had a green film forming on it and smelled like boiled garbage. She tried to feed it to them, but the Larries turned away.

  DeeDee stared at the tray. “He used to like it this way. I'm worried. He's never wilted or gotten this big so quickly. We can't screw this up. He has to survive birthing season. There aren't many Larries left in the wild.”

  Suddenly, as if to punctuate our failure, Larry's big head flopped over and crashed against the floor. His mouth opened, his tongue shot out, and his stalk convulsed. Heeeeeerrrffff Heeeeerrrrffff.

  Uh oh. He was making the same sound Gertrude made when she was about to hack up a hairball.

  Heeeeeerrrffff heeeeerrrrffff.

  Dear lord, please don't be a hairball. Gertrude's were too disgusting for words, and she was a teeny little thing. Who knew what horror Larry would hack up.

  Heeeeeerrrffff heeeeerrrrffff.

  I braced for it, but Larry went completely stiff and stone still.

  Oh God. He's dead. We killed him. He's going extinct, and it's our fault!

  “Larry. No!” DeeDee gasped. Then I swear he looked right at her and moved. It was so subtle it was easy to miss, but he clicked his head toward the door two times.

  A sweet voice came from behind us.

  “Oh goodness, honey. Is that a Halloween decoration? Do you need help putting it away?”

  Gulp. I knew that voice. I spun around. My Mom, Jennifer Lamb Wallace, stood on the welcome mat, looking at Larry.

  This can't be happening.

  I checked the clock. It was one in the morning. The Go Away charm was on. Which could only mean one thing: Mom was desperate. Really, really desperate. Because that's the only way a normal human could get past the Go Away charm.

  I could see Mom's book club friends in the parking lot, waiting by Mrs. Miller's minivan, looking uncomfortable. The charm worked on the other ladies.

  Shit. This was bad. This was very, very bad. I didn't know why Mom was here, but I had to get her outside, back in that minivan, before she got hurt. Or, you know, figured out there was a giant, pregnant carnivorous plant from hell in the store.

  Right then, Angel eight ball rolled out from behind the hot dog station. “Remember the note she left in your laundry hamper? She's checking up on you. She thinks you're on drugs. Or dealing drugs. Probably both.”

  “Do you have something there? Behind your back?” Mom asked.

  I held on white knuckled to DeeDee's book. There's no way I could let Mom see that. I mean, it wasn't growling in the bottom of my closet level bad, but still. Divert! Divert! “Is everything okay?” I asked, big fake smile on full display. “Is Dad okay? You're never out this late.”

  “Oh, yes, honey. Everything's fine.” Her voice was sweet as syrup. “Just fine.”

  The worry wrinkle between her eyebrows furrowed into a deep eleven as she tried to peek around to see what I was holding. She swayed a little. Her cheeks were pink, and when she smiled at me her teeth were dark. Stained. With red wine. Uh oh. Mom was tipsy.

  “The girls decided to mix it up and have book club at the bar again. We were next door, so I thought I'd pop in to visit you,” she said. “So. This is where you work? I've only seen it from the outside, but it looks...nice?”

  Mom glanced at Larry, playing dead. DeeDee stepped between Mom and the giant plant and introduced herself. “Hi. I'm DeeDee.”

  “Oh, my. He didn't tell me you were so pretty. I'm Lloyd's mom. It's so nice to meet you!” She wrapped DeeDee up in her arms. “Sorry, dear. I'm a hugger!”

  I took my chance and ditched the book. I slipped it between some potato chip bags on an end cap. DeeDee looked at me over my Mom's shoulder and mouthed, “get her out of here.”

  Well, duh! I didn't want her to stay.

  “Do you need snacks or drinks for the road, Mom? My treat.” I pulled that fake smile up higher.

  Mom let go of DeeDee and descended on me, locking me in a death squeeze. Like seriously. She was hugging me like she was never gonna see me ever again. “Aw. You're so sweet. You're my sweet, sweet boy. Are you okay, honey? Like, really okay?”

 
; “Get your hands off my woman.” Morty stepped in the front door and straightened his tie. “Don't waste your time with boys, Jennifer. You need a man, and this is what a real man looks like.”

  My Mom spun on her heel. She took one look at Morty and giggled. “Stop. You're such a flirt. This is my son, Lloyd. I told you about him.”

  “Son? You're pulling my leg,” Morty cooed. “Your brother maybe.”

  Morty grabbed Mom's hand, went down on one knee in front of her, and kissed it. And I'm not talking a peck. He turned her hand over and sunk his tongue into her palm.

  What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On? Then it hit me. Oh God. My Mom was the book club babe he was trying to bed. Oh, hell no!

  “Stop.” My Mom blushed and giggled. “I told you, I'm a married woman.”

  Morty looked up at her and grinned. “You may have already ordered your entree, but it's time for dessert.”

  Noooooooooooo!!!! Why God? WHY?

  “You shoulda never let your hot mom within three blocks of that perv.” Kevin dragged a Monster Burger bag in through the front door. “Told ya she was a MILF. Wait. What time is it?”

  He glanced at the clock. “Man. You must be in deep shit, kid. What did you do, set the garage on fire?”

  Morty put his arm around my Mom and whisked her dangerously close to the boner pill display.

  “Are you hungry, beautiful? There's chocolate sauce in aisle three. I'd love to lick it off of you. Mmm mmm.”

  Room spinning. This is not happening. Make it stop.

  So of course, things only got worse. Much worse. As soon as Mom's back was turned, Big Larry started hacking again. Heeeeeerrrffff heeeeerrrrffff. He reared up and bucked like a rodeo bull. Heeeeeerrrffff heeeeerrrrffff.

  Not now, Big Larry. Please wait until Mom is gone. Please please please.

  Nope. Big Larry let loose. A stream of neon pink vomit shot straight up out of his mouth, spraying down all around him like he was the fountain in the town square.