Club Dead

All Rights Reserved ©

Zombie Charter School

“The plot is going nowhere,” Sponge Bob said.

“No, you’re wrong,” Emig protested.

“He’s right. But the problem is there’s nothing new,” said Tallie. In a monotone spooky voice she intoned:

The dead have risen, and they’re hungry. Consumed with a ravenous desire for human flesh, they are everywhere. All they do is kill. Soon, they start killing themselves, infected with whatever it is that is causing the newly dead to rise. The world is going straight to hell. Your own family and friends may have joined the ranks of the undead. And they’re coming right at you...Apocalypse!

“Very good reading Tallie. When this play is set for the stage, you’re in.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“How about this,” Emig offered. “The zombies have entered the school and gone after all the popular kids. But that makes them sick. The popular kids are infected…”

“With what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because being popular is a sickness?

“Help me. Hasn’t all this collaborative group crap they teach us sunk in with any one you?”

“Group work sucks.”

“When I rule the world I will eliminate the word collaborative.”

“Right. Nice obvious thought. But we need to write this play.”

“Why?”

“It keeps Club Dead alive.”

“It’s dead.”

“No, didn’t you hear? Word’s out we’re meeting during lunch. Going to take over the old stage in the caf, start chanting and freak everyone out.”

“Oh, that will help the cause.”

“Well, it’s something.”

“Come on – the play’s the thing! Now that I’ve got it going I want to make it happen. It would be cool to submit it.”

“But it’s got to say something.”

“Well help me say something.”

“What do we want to say?”

“In the spirit of a zombie story…”

“Okay, something’s wrong…”

“With our school..?”

“It’s decaying…!”

“That’s good.”

“It’s true.”

“I like Swanson’s class.”

“We’re talking in a macro sense. You have to agree this place sucks.”

“Generally, yes.”

“So it’s decaying…?”

“And…?”

“The zombies take over the school!”

“So they didn’t stop with just the popular kids? I thought they were infected?”

“No, there wasn’t enough brain power in them, so they moved onto the honors kids.”

“How did they find them?”

“They go into the office and Carrie is there and they make her a zombie and she gives the zombies the list of kids in the honor society.”

“Carrie Unser would make a very awesome zombie.”

“Maybe she can be some zombie leader?”

“Okay, they finish off the honors kids and…?”

“Hold it. Isn’t there supposed to a small group that fights off the zombies?” Tallie said.

“I thought you wanted it a different zombie story,” Emig said. “Let the zombies take over the school. They find no obstacles. They zombify the jocks, the musicians, and the computer geeks, they gobble up the middle school and all teachers.”

“And the subs. Don’t forget the subs.”

“Subs have no chance.”

“Poor subs.”

“Do they get us?”

“Who? The subs?”

“No. You know, the people who hate school?”

“That’s a problem.”

“I mean, they would probably like Club Dead.”

“No, they should go too. They can come back later. Here, listen to this. Everyone goes.”

“And they make a new school. A charter school! Only zombies can attend!”

“Control yourself Sponge Bob. I think that would kill the narrative.”

“No listen, they make this school, and they hold classes in how to be a zombie, how to walk, stagger, and identify who might have the tastiest brain, how to hold arms out in a terrifying way…”

Sponge Bob walked around in a feigned stupor.

“And they have to do things like go to one class to the next…”

“For forty-four minutes…”

“And they have to sit in desks…”

“And listen to lectures…”

“And have to take notes…”

“And take quizzes…”

“And tests…”

“And attend pep rallies…”

“And listen to Mr. Jorgenson…”

“And do collaborative group projects!”

“No, this is too awful!”

“It’s Zombie Charter School!”

“Okay, and then what?”

“They want to get out…”

“But they have to earn credits…”

“They are told that if they don’t graduate, they will have no future…”

“They won’t get into a good college…”

“And they’ll be a drain on society…”

“An embarrassment to their families…”

“They will be losers!”

“And…?”

“I don’t know. That’s good for now. Let’s get this part written. Tallie, up for some scribing?”

Tallie pulled a notebook out and a pen and readied herself to record Emig and Sponge Bob.

It was an ordinary day at Blissfield High. But by lunch something very strange had happened…”

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