relieved.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” he bluffs.
“Okay, well, how about this…?”
I pull him slightly down, so that he’s facing the passenger side mirror.
There he sees his right ear, still giant sized and hairy; just like it was on stage that whole time.
Just like it’s been ever since he ran out of the men’s room, shoving his black V-neck T-shirt back into his snug black jeans.
“Oh my God!” he blurts, standing back up and covering his mouth. (Come to think of it, his knuckles are still pretty hairy as well. Or, wait… are they always like that?)
“D-d-do you think Baxter saw?”
“I think once he saw that check, dude, that was all he saw. Come on, let’s eat.”
“B-b-but, my ear,” he says, feeling it gingerly; yup, it’s still there.
“Who cares?” I huff, yanking him toward the doorway of Delmonico’s. “If anybody says anything, we’ll say it’s part of your costume!”
* * * * *
About the Author
Rusty Fischer is the author of over a dozen zombie novels, including Zombies Don’t Cry, Zombies Don’t Forgive, The Girl Who Could talk to Zombies and Panty Raid at Zombie High! Visit him at www.zombiesdontblog.blogspot.com to learn more and read tons of FREE zombie stories and poems just like this one!
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