
T'was the night before Samhain and all through the mall
The zombies, they found it a great human haul
All hungry they'd tripped to this mecca of dosh
And readied themselves for a holiday nosh
The humans had come here in bright fancy dress
With visions of prizes, for those who were best.
A few conjured witches, a few crept as cats,
Here sulked emo vampires and there-- other twats.
When out from the food court arose a great murmur,
Like massage chairs gone wonky in Hammacher-Schlemmer.
Away to McDonalds I flew like a flash;
Were they giving free chips? It would save me some cash.
The moon through the skylight above Chick Fil-A
Gave the tile floor a spotlight in silvery-gray
When, what to my red, jetlagged eyes did appear
But that gaggle of zombies in zombie-like gear.
With a corpse in the lead just so bloody and fat
Well, I ran off to purchase a strong cricket bat.
As slow as molasses these zombies they came.
(Bought baseball, not cricket-- plus thrower-of-flame)
Now Gimpy, now Pinhead, now Jason, and Freddie
On Limpy and Nigel and tens of old deadies...
From Perfumes in Macy's to the front of the stage,
The undead they oozed in their undeadly rage
I stood firm and waited, just tapping my bat
And cursed my bad luck. I mean, who would think that
I'd fly off just to meet an American friend
And wouldn't you know? Bleedin' zombies-- again!
My friend only frowned. "What's that thing for, Shaun?"
"They're zombies! Get ready. Here, turn this thing on."
As I passed the flame-thrower, and was ready to swing,
The zombies, they did a remarkable thing.
They were forming a queue, one right after the other.
This with popped eyeballs, that-- one ugly mother.
They queued and they shuffled up front of the judges
They gave their best moans, their best drools, some nice trudges
Their jaws how they slackened, their lips how they drooled
And yet no one ran panicked. "They're zombies, you fools!"
Yet shout as I did, the crowd wasn't afraid.
"Shaun, it's our annual costume parade..."
"...They do this each year," said my friend of the hoard.
And he showed me a sign. "Zombie Walk." Oh, good Lord.
"You took me to this after all I'd been through?!...
"...Ed's undead in my shed!" "Well, it's something to do."
So I grabbed the flame-thrower, I bagged up the club
I pushed past three zombies and hit the mall pub.
And my friend called to me as I stalked out of sight,
"Their mixed zombies are great. But order me a Bud Light?"
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