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like father like He stood there, inside the circle. Nothing seemed to be happening, except that his was getting impatient. He hadn�t let Fife outside for hours. He knew he had forgotten something before entering the circle and beginning the spell, and that was it, forgetting to let her out into the back yard to go to the bathroom wasn�t so bad, well at least not to him. To FiFi, his 190pound of furry, Bull Mastiff, it held a more serious importance. Now, it was too late, no stepping out of the circle. He dare not disturb the protective force field surrounding him, not even a little bit. He was only summoning his long time friend, Jingles, so he might ask him a few questions. And get a few answers that made sense, and not the usual riddles Jingles is so fond of giving as answers. It is so irritating when he sings out his riddles in the form of commercial jingles. But magic circles sometimes let other, uncalled and unwanted things through. The smell of very strong coffee filled the air. The smell was slight at first, but soon became as strong as the odor of many coffees being brewed at once. Jingles was nearby, and just wasn�t ready to make his physical form visible yet. Then with a loud popping sound he appeared sitting at the little table and chair I had prepared for him. He was a pudgy little wood imp who looked like a man, barely a foot tall, and weighing around 20lbs., with green finger nails, and green and brown messy hair, still wearing his night cloths and slippers. He sat in the small plastic chair, like he owned it, sipping on a large cup of coffee. �Calling an imp to a circle before he�s had his morning coffee can be dangerous to your health. What the hell do you want at this god forsaken time of morning?� �It�s almost 10:30 eastern time, I�ve been up all night,� I told him. In the most polite way as I could after having no sleep all night. �What�s in the bag, tall guy?� He began to open it like he knew the small bag under his table was for him. I had placed a doughnut hole in the bag for him, because I knew he�d like one with his morning java. �This is a great bribe Jonathan. What do you want? You don�t give me anything without asking for something in return.� I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, so I could ask my question without getting a sing-song answer.�My coffee�s getting� cold, you better hurry, what, what, what.� He muttered while sipping from his cup. I told him about the dead people walking around, the wooded areas of town, mostly in North and South Park. They belong to no special age group, nor are they all men or all women. None of them have had an animation spell cast on them. They aren�t attacking anything�s or anybody�s; they�re just walking around, not going anywhere special either. �Have you or any of your friends seen any of them?� Before I could stop him from singing his jingle answer, he began. �I have your answer, la, da da de la. I�ll give it to you now, la da da de lo. But once you know it, la de da da le. But once you know it you may not smile, la da da di li.� I hate it when he does that sing-song thing, but it�s his way. �Yes we�ve seen them around and around and around. They�re becoming a bunch of pests, always getting in our way. We have night cleaning to do in the parks and in the trees. Can�t just let the cleaning go undone, we need to keep the leaves dusted so the trees can breathe properly. ��I was hoping you could tell me why they�re not staying dead or something like that? All we have seen is them waking-up, walking around aimlessly, then, going back to their beds by sun rise. Do you have another doughnut whole?� That was a stupid question, I asked him. Of course him and his friends have seen them walking through the parks. They know about anything that happens in the parks and to all the wooded areas in and around Alleghany County. It�s their jobs to watch over and take care of the trees in the county so the trees can live long happy and healthy lives. No matter how badly mankind abuses them. That means I only have two questions left this session. �You know you only have two questions left this time, don�t you Jonathan? Better use them wisely, if ya wan� to learn more than the obvious.� �Yes I know, now let me think before I ask my next question.� Think Jon, what question should you ask next. Then it came to me, yes that�s it, that will be my next quarry. Okay, Jingles, here is my next question. �If they keep on being pests and keep you from doing your jobs even more. What would you do, being to prince of this county�s tree imps?� He took a few moments to comprise his jingle song answer, and then. �So you want to know what I would do, do, do. To make the dead get the sleep they�re due, due, due. I�d look up to the sky and see that it�s blue, blue, and blue. Then look down at the ground under my shoe, shoe, shoe, I�m almost out of coffee� Now we�re getting somewhere, with only one more question to go. What should I ask him now? No! Not what but where. �Jingles, if you got you clan to retrace when and where they saw the first dead people wake up. You would tell me where that place is?� That was my third question of the session. As soon as he gives me an answer, he�ll be gone. �Are you ready to feast your ears upon my answer?� �Yes just tell me your answer.� �Then here ya go Jon me boy. Sure I would, sure I would, it�s not a secret I wanna keep, though the story may be a sad one, it will make you want to weep,���� or not.� Then, in the blink of an eye, and a loud pop, Jingles was gone. FiFi know it was over, barked and ran up the basement stairs to wait at the door, to be let out. I stood up said a few words ending the spell, and took my pool cue/staff and broke the circle by dragging the end of the cue across the lines of the circle. All was well now, time to step outside the lines and go up stairs and let FiFi out into the yard. Welcome into the world of Jonathan Harris, a wizard of sorts, just like his cousin Harry in Chicago. Only Harry gets to work with the Chicago Police Department, solving weird crimes. Harry�s life is full of excitement. Jonathan�s has been pretty boring, that is until now. Being a wizard has its down side too. It isn�t as glamorous as everybody else thinks it is. One thing very few people know is we have a difficult time with electrical appliances and water heaters. Toasters don�t toast, or over toast. Water heaters don�t heat much, just enough not to be straight cold water. Light switches don�t turn on the lights half the time, and half the time they do. So I have a fire place and lots of candles. I buy perishable foods day by day and have a cooler with ice. So life isn�t perfect, is yours? It wasn�t my choice to learn all of this magic, wizarding stuff. I was born to it, as was my cousin Harry. My mother was a beautiful woman up until the sickness took over her body, and she died, when I was graduating eight grades. That�s when my older cousin Harry entered me into a special school for special, gifted . He must have known I had the powers in me, and they just had to be controlled. I�ve never been able to do most of the things Harry can do. I�ve never had to do anything like that, and I�m not sure I want to. If my powers don�t work like that I could die, or somebody else could. Only a few people know I have magic powers. Harry�s Half brother, my half cousin I guess, and Tiffany, my best friend. And she doesn�t know how much power I have, but I�ve been told by those in the council of wizards that I will someday be very important. That remains to be seen, I guess. My life isn�t anything I expected it to be. And now I have been given this Case to investigate by the council. They asked me to use the knowledge I have and to use my magic to find out why these dead people will not stay dead, what made them wake up, and how to stop it. I think it�s a test to find out how and what I�ll do, and how I�ll keep it from the public. An evil laugh echo�s through the old house, on Brighton Rd. on the north side of old Pittsburgh, and finally dies out. �Where should we play our music tonight, Frank, How about we entertain in the west end of the city? St Martin�s, Catholic cemetery, you say, good choice.� The very fat black cat mewed out as to be answering the question asked of him. A soft stroke behind his ears, and then a strong grab making him pull away, was to be expected from this human. He didn�t understand why his master was nice and then mean, but he was his meal ticket, and things could be worse. The man could be hurting him much more than just squeezing his neck. Frank didn�t have any choice but to stay. He was this human wizard�s familiar, for better or worse, mostly worse. �It�s time to go out and have some fun, Frank, let�s go.� With that said, he and cat headed out the door, along the driveway, and into his old, rusty, beat up car. It took a few tries to get it going, but soon it was spewing forth clouds of pollutants. They were off toward their new destination, and their latest adventure, to wake more of the dead. Jonathan had been up all night in Jefferson Memorial Park cemetery near South Park, on the out skirts of the old Pittsburgh, when the parks department was first setting aside land to be used as outdoor entertainment centers for the citizens and their near the beginning of the 20th century. Now that he had a little (pun intended) help from his little friend Jingles, all he wanted to do is to get some sleep. He called FiFi back into the apartment , drew the shades closed on the bedroom window, fluffed up his pillow laid his head on the soft bag of feathers and fell right to sleep. Dreams did not come to him as he slept, at least none to be remembered. After three hours of deep slumber a wet lick on his hand woke him from his getaway. It was time to get up, let FiFi out again, feed himself and his protector, FiFi, and head back out to Jefferson memorial park to watch for the not dead, dead people. After everybody ate and went to the bathroom, they head toward the car. His car is an old beat up rusty old pinto. But he takes good care of it, and it starts right up, and off they go. FiFI barks and gives an all too familiar whimper. Jonathan knows just what she wants, and turns the radio on to her favorite station. Polkas it is, FiFi settles down and lays down in the back seat. She sways her head back and forth as though she�s enjoying the music. Then THE BEER BARREL POLKA comes on. She jumps up like somebody just woke her from a sound sleep. She begins to bark in time with the music. It seemed so funny at the time. The song ended on the radio, but I can�t get it out of my head. It keeps repeating itself over and over. I hate when this happens to me. The song kept repeating itself in my head for hours. We had arrived at the cemetery an hour ago, and we�re waiting for the sun to set. It gets dark early here because of the hills in the area. Finally night is here. Its 9:45 and very dark here in the cemetery. I had to sneak in through the shadows as night fell, so I wouldn�t get caught. Damn that song is still rerunning in my head. We sat in silence three hours and not a peep from the dead, go figure. It was a five �til twelve when my phone rang. Councilwoman, Darisse wanted me to know that some walking dead were spotted at St.Martins cemetery in Elliot, near where I live. Apparently the walking dead phenomenon travels from place to place, that�s weird. Brian Coughran and his loyal cat Weezeel drive down Corliss st., and turn right up to Rudd to Harrod st. on the back of the cemetery. It�s already dark and way back here, on this lonely street, nobody�s going to even care or notice. Brian and Weezeel climb out of the car, and head up the hill, to the old part of the graveyard. Only a few people know this part of the cemetery is even here. This part of the grounds haven�t been used or trimmed for years, and nobody ever comes to visit the forgotten ones here. �Well tonight these long, unloved bodies will walk among the living.� Brian says to himself, with excited anticipation. He sets his boom-box down and repeats a few words, beginning in a low whisper and ending with a shout. The CD inside the music player begins to glow, as does the player itself. It begins playing a famous, popular song, by a dead singer. After a few minutes the ground begins to move. Soon hands rise out of the, not so holy any more, forgotten ground. Then heads follow the hands, then the feet, soon the whole body digs itself out of the ground. One by one the lonely bodies break their ground and join the living. Tonight they will be seen by the living world. It was only 12:30 Am., there�s lots of time to get the job done. Now let me see who I want to show off to the whole world. Brian walks over to what seems to be a mid aged woman, wearing what�s left of a long dress from what looks like, it�s from the late 1800�s. All two dozen or so bodies were just roaming around aimlessly. He led her down the hill to the level spot above the Corlliss Tunnel. Slowly he nudged her to the edge of the ground just above the top of the tunnel. Then, just as a row of cars approached the tunnel he shoved her over the edge and off into the void between the top and the bottom of the entrance. He held his hand up to his ear, and closed his eyes as if to hear well. Splat! Screech, beep, crunch. Music to his ears. Now the world will know of the walking dead. But there was no splat, no screech, and no car horn. He opened his eyes and looked down only to see me staring back. As fate most have been involved, I was in the third car, and happened to be looking up. My instinct was going crazy, something was going on. I pulled over and stuck my cue stick out my window and aimed it at the girl as she began to fall. I could feel the concentrated energy flowing up my arm and into the cue stick. The tip started to glow with an inferred kind of glow most people couldn�t see. And there was a faint smell of ozone in the air. I watched as the light at the end of my cue shot out and hit the girl smack dab in her chest. She went flying back about 150 feet and landed with a thump. Brian pointed at me and let out an animal sound Arrrrrrrrrrrh. I got back on the street and turned up the side road toward where he had parked. As I pulled within visual range of his car I could see him get in and drive off. Thank goodness I was born with a kind of night vision, like cats. I now know what he looks like, now that I�ve seen him twice. Jumping out of my car, as soon as I could bring it to a stop, I ran up the hill to the back of the cemetery. The woman was just getting back to her area of the grounds. The rest of the dead were walking around in no particular pattern, sometimes even bumping into one another. I lead each of them to a grave I thought would be theirs. One by one I gradually returned each to their proper resting places. After all of the night walkers were back in their holes I raised my cue stick, and set the handle end of it into the ground, with the tip pointed straight up. I called out a simple detect magic spell on the area. The tip of my cue began to glow purple, and so did the top of a headstone not far from me. It was magic residue left over from a magical item set there, but now taken away. I can hear a song playing, as though it were far in the distance. I remember the song from many years ago, but can�t remember who sang it. The only thing I remember is that it had dancing zombies in it, and Vincent Price at the end, laughing. Then the song faded away even more as the magic faded from the area. I made sure everyone was covered with dirt again, stuffed FiFi back into the car, and took off for home. Lucky for me, home was only on the other side of the cemetery. Whoever it was animating these bodies, is playing in my yard, so to speak. And he didn�t ask me permission to play here. Something about him seemed familiar, like I knew him from somewhere, or saw him somewhere in my past, more than once. Once I got home I disabled the no trespassing spell from my front and back doors and windows. I grabbed a warm soda as I passed through the kitchen, and let FiFi outside to do her thing. The fact that I remember him from somewhere kept nagging at me as I read the Post. No news was good news, no reports about dead bodies anywhere in the city. What was he up to, and who is he, and why is he doing it? I looked over the stack of mail I grabbed on my way in. Let�s see what wonderful things have been sent to me today, bill, bill, advertisement, school alumnae club wanting money for something or other. Wait, school, that�s it, school, I went to wizard school with him. I jumped up and hurried to the bookshelf where the year book sits gathering dust. I pull it from its resting place and thumb through it. There he is on page 23, Brian Coughran, voted most imaginative in class. We used to tease him about his name, and we called him cough drop, as a nickname. Now where did I put the phonebook? I wish I could use a laptop to look up his address, if it is him, and if he lives in the city. But me and electronic things don�t get along so well. After taking ten minutes looking for the phonebook, I got lucky. There is three Brian Coughran�s living in Pittsburgh. One lives in green tree, one in squirrel hill, and one on the north side. I�ll get Tiffany to call each of them, asking for a to the school. Only one of the three will have gone to our school, and then I�ll show up at his house to pick-up the . That�s when I�ll come face to face, and I�ll be sure it�s him, and confront him. Tiffany called the first two Brian�s on the short list, and neither one of them were him. The one on the north side had to be him. I�ll show up unannounced and surprise him. I put on my long coat, and stuffed my wand inside. I quickly charged my energy ring, left FiFi at home and headed over to 2108 Brighton rd. I parked a block away, and walked to his house. The door was open slightly, so I knocked on the other double door. After a moment a deep voice came from inside the house. �Come in Jonathan, I�ve been waiting for you. � �Shit! I�ve sorely underestimated him; I�ll have to be very careful.� I stepped into the hallway and saw him sitting in a rather large chair in the sitting room to my right. He stood to greet me. He was tall and lanky, with thick long salt and peppered hair, and sunken eyes, the typical bad guy, how funny. Too bad I don�t look like the typical good guy. There was a large pussy cat sitting on the arm of the chair he had been sitting in. �would you like something to drink?� he asked me. I graciously declined, and told him I belonged to the alumni group from school, and am here to ask him for a . I quickly glanced at the pile of mail on the table next to the chair, and there it was, a letter from the school. He might just believe I�m here to get some money out of him. If he doesn�t suspect anything else, or doubts himself about me being a threat, I could get out of, what I felt was a pre-set trap, which he wouldn�t spring, unless he was sure I deserved it. He was three years ahead of me at school, and if he didn�t see my face last night, he may not even know it was me. He just guessed my name when I came to the door. Doing something like that is easy if you�re calm. It�s a little game we were taught to play in school to hone our skills. He reached for his checkbook and began to write on a check, ripped the check out of the book and handed it to me. As my fingers grabbed hold of the check his facial expression changed. His eyes and attention were staring straight into my eyes, like he was asking me an unspoken question. Then he smiled and said he hoped that his will be enough to help. I looked down to the check and smiled back at him. �I�m sure $5,000 will go a long way, thank you.� He slowly released the check, I put it in my pocket and thanked him and turned to walk toward the door. �Tell me, do you like The King of Pop�s music, Jonathan?� he asked with a sneer on his face. I took a second before I turned around to face him. �Pardon me.� I said,� What did you say?� �Do you like his older songs, or his new ones? Me, I like his famous classics, so much so that sometimes I can�t get them out of my head. They just keep repeating, over and over, like a CD in my mind. I think it has a magic all its own.� �Haven�t really thought about it much, I�m not fond of any of his music. Good day Mr. Coughran.� I turned and walked out his door. By the time I got to my car I was very confused. Either he didn�t know it was me last night, and has a really weird curiosity. Or he�s pretty sure it was me thwarting his plan, and was baiting me. But he wasn�t sure enough to spring his trap. Or did he spring it on me without me realizing it. I got to my car and pulled a small satin pouch from the glove compartment. I carefully drew the check from my pocket and placed it in the pouch. The pouch was a magic neutralizer, made to keep weak spells placed inside it, unable to work without the spell caster knowing the spell isn�t quite doing its job, until it�s too late. I had to make one stop before I went home, Tiffany�s. Tiffany has a nice home in Crafton, on union ave. It�s a large three stories plus attic, and basement. She runs her high fashion on line Company from her office in her castle like home. Tiffany is a computer whiz, and can help me out what Mr. Coughran is up to. As I pulled up to the front of her house I saw her car in the short driveway. She was happy to see me, after not seeing me for over a month. We�ve both been too busy, and been playing phone tag for weeks. She gave me a big hug and kiss as I walked in the door. After exchanging updates, I asked her if she could research Brian Coughran for me. She said she was in the middle of some things that could not be delayed, but would get it to me tomorrow evening at six o�clock when I showed up to take her out for the evening, movie, dinner, and dancing and billiards. I smiled at her, stuck my finger up at her, smiled and said yes. To tell the truth, I could use the distraction. Today is Friday, so I have to be on watch one more night before I�ll know some more about Brian. Oh no, I�ll have to give Tiffany a rain check on a night out. I can�t waste time having fun, when he�s still out there planning something. Where will he waken the dead next, and with what magic, and the big question, why? So far he�s awakened bodies on the east side, south side, in the city on the west side. That leaves the North side not yet zombified. Now let�s get back to the house and look at my city maps and try to guess which cemetery he might be in tonight. I got home and FiFi was eagerly waiting for me. Not because she missed me, but because she needed to go outside. I climbed down the homemade latter style staircase to my office in the basement. The basement looks like many other basements, with its catch-all areas and clearings. My office is a small room at the far back side of the larger room. No visible locks on the doors, just a poster of Hubastank, a contemporary band. I neutralize the magic locks on the door, and walk in. With a flick of my finger, five candles light up. It�s a nifty little trick. As you gaze around the room from you left to your right you�ll find shelves full of an assortment of herbs and other bottled ingredients, for magic potions. Then hanging across the back wall is a 4�x6�map of the greater Pittsburgh area. Finally on the right wall are dozens of books on a bunch of different topics. And in a clearing in the middle of the floor is my magic circle of inlaid copper and silver. I made my way across the floor to the map. I found three cemeteries on the north side, but none of them felt right, like they were his next target. I looked around on the book shelf for a map of Butler County. Butler County is the next county north of ours. I found it and unfolded it, and began looking for a cemetery. There, in Evans City, just across the county border, about thirty miles north or Point Park, where the rivers join. Something about this name of this place sounds familiar; I remember that name from something, but what. I went upstairs to grab a bit to eat, and to feed Fife. I poured some food into her bowl and fixed me a sandwich, some chips, and a few dill pickle slices. As I sat, eating my lunch I racked my brain trying to remember where I know that name from. Then a book dropped off the shelf on its own, or maybe I did it subconsciously. I got up and picked up the book, sat back down and stared at the title on the cover. It was titled The History of Cinema in and around the Pittsburgh area. I had time, so I thumbed through the pages. I�ve always had an interest in Movies and TV shows filmed in and near my home. My house was even in one movie as the camera passed by it getting to its destination just a block away. Then, in chapter 4, Horror Films How it began, my question was answered. There, right in front of me I saw where he would strike next, Evans City Cemetery, on the south side of the town. The picture was about 45 years old, in black and white, and the caption read, Birth place of the movie, Night of The Living Dead. I somehow know this is where he will be tonight, to raise the dead. But knowing this only raises another question, what is his connection with the movie? �Well, Fife, we have time to take a nap before we head out to Evans City, so let�s take a nap.� I stretched out on the couch, and she lay on the floor in front of the couch, and we drifted off to sleep. I awoke to FiFis barking at the front door, and the clanking of the door knocker, banging on the wooden door. I dragged myself to the door and looked out the peephole. It was Tiffany standing there impatiently, waiting for me to open the door. �Just a minute� I yelled to her, but before I undid the safety locking spell, I stopped and looked at her for a moment, she is so beautiful. She reached up and pounded with her fist, �come on, you�ll want to know this now, �she yelled out. I disarmed the spell, and opened the door. She hurried in, sat on the couch, picked up the book I was reading, and said �you already know.� �Know what?� I asked. �I decided to do a background check on his ancestors, since there wasn�t anything worthwhile in the net about Brian. And I came across something about his father.� She was baiting me, having her fun, at my expense, and I didn�t care.� Would you like to know what I found out?� She turned to chapter four, and held it up to me. �Brian�s father helped make this movie. The reason this cheap low budget movie was so popular and made so much money, and became a classic was because Brains father was a wizard too. He made a deal with the director George Romero to use real zombies and good luck magic to ensure the success of the movie.� �Then what happened?�I inquired.�You�re gonna love this part Jon. It took more digging, but I dug, especially for you. After the filming was over Romero reneged on his deal with Charles Coughran, Brian�s father. No money or credit was given to Charles. After the movie there�s no information at all on his father. Does this help any?� My brain was spinning, trying to absorb the new information. If Romero went back on his word, means that Charles might not have been able to fulfill his part of the bargain with some dark power. Projects this big isn�t done for free. Someone has to pay for all the dark energy it takes to bring so many bodies to life, so many times. Charles made some kind of important deal with some power, trusting Romero, putting something precious up for collateral. Then when Romero backed out Charles was stuck paying the bill, so to speak. Brian must be out for revenge. He wants to bring hundreds of zombies back to life at once, and panic the whole city. There�s no way the council can protect the whole city at once, without the public finding out. Either save the public, or save our secrecy, it�s a no win situation. I grabbed the book from Tiffany to check when the premiere of the movie was. As I franticly read through the pages, Tiffany laughs and tells me, �October 1st, 1968 is the opening date in Pittsburgh, at the Fulton theater. �That�s tomorrow, �I blurted out. I reached for the Post, but she beat me to it. She flipped to the entertainment section and began reading an article on the anniversary celebration to be held down town and at many other theaters in and around the city. There was going to be a special celebration in Evans City, where George Romero and others will be there to make special appearances. The people don�t know it, but so will the zombies. I got to a phone, and hoped it would work long enough for me to get my mentor, and set up a meet later today. Promptly at 6:00p.m. There was a knock on my door, and my magic locks were opened from the outside, by whoever was out there. I sure was hoping it was my mentor, and watcher, Master Wizard, Dempsey. I reached for my cue stick, just in case it wasn�t, but as I did, a hand shown through the edge of the door, and my magic cue/staff was in his hand. My cue stick/magic staff now belonged to whoever�s hand it was. As the sleeve of the hands shirt came into view, I knew it was Dempsey. Nobody else I know still wears pirate like, bell sleeves. As the door swung open my assuming was confirmed. I had my wand pointed at him, just in case. �Well, Jonathan, this better be as important as you think it is. He sat down and I filled him in on what I had found out in the last few days. I also explained the connection to the movie, and who was behind it all, and what his plans are, for this weekend. After a few minutes of quiet deliberation, he asked me one short question. �Are you sure?� were the only words he spoke, he wasn�t much on small talk. I told him I was very sure, and that Brian and some of his followers were going to use a popular song, with a magic spell on it to lure the dead out of many of the surrounding grave yards in and about the city, especially in Evans City. He tells me he needs absolute silence to converse with the other masters, NOW. With that he closed his eyes and begins a conference call with the others but without a phone. After the goodbyes were said, he opened his eyes and tells me a plan has been formulated, and I was to go to Evans City by tomorrow at 2:00p.m., and to take FiFi with me. �Don�t you want to tell me how to handle it, or what to do?� I asked him. He got up from the chair he had been sitting in, turned toward me, and gave me a very stern look, and said �NO�, then turned to leave. �I can see myself out, think of the things you�ll need and take them with you, and figure it out for yourself. And put better lock spells on your door.� With those words, he turned and departed, relocking my door when he got outside. Figure it out for yourself he says, decide what you�ll need he says. The only good thing he said to me was, to take FiFi, why? Does he know something I don�t, about what�s going to happen? Well I�d better get to it; I�ve got a lot of work ahead of me. Hours later I had made some potions to throw at the zombies, to make them go to sleep, or stop dead in their tracks, and a few to make the public forget the last hour of time, from the time they breath it, should I need it. My force field bracelet and both of my power rings were charged. I have my extra wand, and it�s been charged. What have I forgotten, I always forget something, oh ya, FiFis power collar. Soon the collar was all charged up and ready to put on my FiFi. I readied my coat with some reflection spells that do just as their names indicate. Now to get some sleep, and charge up my body, before I need all the energy I have to defeat this zombie king wanna be. Sleep came to me easier than I thought it would. I didn�t lay in bed worrying about what was going to happen the next day. Well, now the next day was here, and I woke up refreshed and ready for the day. I let FiFi out to do here business before we head to the festivities in Evans City. I got dressed and equipped myself for my encounter; reset my magic locks on the front door as we exited the house. We piled into the car and headed for the celebration. I don�t think I forgot anything this time. Traffic was light all the way up the turnpike and most of Lindsey road. As I approached the end of route 528/Lindsey rd. the traffic slowed dramatically, and was almost at a standstill on west Main st. I found a decent parking place on a side street, leached FiFi, and started walking toward the Living Dead Festival. �We have two hours until we go our separate ways, and release the dead from their slumber, with an unquenchable thirst for human brains. Just like those many years ago, for my father. George Romero, cheated my father out of fame, and Charles had cut a deal with the queen of darkness to make the movie real, using real zombies. My father had to pay for Romero�s arrogance, with his life. Now they will all pay for their arrogance. Everyone, make sure you CD is in its place, and your boom box is functioning properly. Let�s play some zombie music, just to make sure all is well.� Then as all ten followers clicked their play buttons, the most famous zombie song of all time blasted out of the speakers. �The King of pop would be proud. It�s amazing what a great song and a little magic spell can do. Turn off your boxes and head out to your destinations, and remember don�t turn on your box until 7:00 p.m. Do as you wish �til then.� The festival was crowded with all kinds of people. There were families, couples, and those die hard movie fans dressed up like zombies. �You know FiFi, if he wakes the dead in the Evans City cemetery; everybody will think it�s a publicity stunt until its way too late. We sure have our job cut out for us today, and I, we, have to succeed.� For the next few hours we enjoyed the food booths, and games. We ate rice cereal treats shaped like coffins, Gelatin shaped like brains, and perogies shaped like perogies and red funnel cakes that looked like intestines. FiFi�s and my favorites were the cream filled candies that looked like eyeballs. The town plans on showing the movie on the sides of two barns painted white, in two locations on the outskirts of town, and one blow up screen near the entrance of the cemetery. All three movies were start at 7:30, just as dusk came, and the shadows were getting longer. I played the dime toss, and threw some darts, and won Tiffany a stuffed zombie. It was getting late, so we made our way toward the blow up screen near the cemetery entrance. Brian finally was able to make his way through the crowd, and walked without being disturbed to the front of the eager spectators. Wearing a T-shirt that has STAFF printed on both front and back didn�t hurt either. In the dying sunlight on this crispy evening the headstones seemed to move. The pond near them was like a mirror reflecting the sunlight off the misty edges of the still water. Glaring across the field of victims, his large eyes spots a familiar face, Jonathan Harris, Damn, what�s he doing here? This is not the time to stop because some young, almost wizard, goodie two shoes is here. He can�t possibly stop me and the dark queen from getting the revenge I deserve. I�ll save him for me; while he�s busy saving people from real killers I�ll stab him with my wand. It won�t kill him, but infect him with dark power, that will spread through his body and soon change his way of thinking and acting. The queen of darkness will be so pleased with my gift of him to her. Jonathan spots Brian in the distance, on the other side of the spectators, making his way unhindered into the cemetery. As Brian clears the people gathering to watch the movie, it becomes clear that he is carrying a boom box, in his left hand, and swinging it like he hadn�t a care in the world. As Brian strolls deeper between the grave markers, Jonathan gets to his feet and tells FiFi to follow. Soon both of them are within a hundred feet of Brian. Suddenly, Jonathan comes to an abrupt stop, as he slams against a magical force field. �Enjoying the festival Jonathan?� Brian shouts out, as he positions the boom box atop a flat topped headstone.� I really wish you could join me, but it�s not my force field. It�s been made to stop any magic from getting anywhere near me, that might keep me from doing what I have to do. �Do know what I have to do Jonathan? I have to avenge my father, and destroy the man who caused him to lose his life.� Jonathan tried every spell and potion he had, exhausted his energy rings and his wand. All he had left was his cue stick and his bracelet to protect him, if need be. He was beat, and he was about to lose to Brian and something or someone much more powerful then he was. Brian looked at his watch, then turned and smiled at Jonathan. In the blink of your eye, two fingers press down on the play button. The air filled with the zombie song. The ground around us began to shake as hands and heads pierced their way out of the soil. Within a minute the zombies were standing and walking toward the crowd. The people spotted the living dead and saw the green glow that surrounded them, and cheered, thinking it to be actors, not the real things. You could hear them from a distance, exclaiming, �I need brains.� These zombies were all too real and they were hungry, for real. If I can�t stop them many people will die tonight. The hungry zombies were making their way toward the people. Wait a minute; it�s a force field against magic. �Come here FiFI.� Jonathan calls, and grabs at his dogs neck to remove the magic collar, but it�s not there. �FiFi, go get the music and get it wet, go for a swim.� At first she just stared toward the music, then, suddenly, she took off running straight for the music. Jonathan drew power to his staff and kept firing at the force field to distract Brian. Before Brian knew what was happening, FiFi grabbed the boom box between her teeth and ran like a big brown bear toward the pond. Brian drew his wand and began shooting at FiFi, in an attempt to stop her, but the headstones were getting in the way. FiFi became air born as she jumps into the pond. While she�s in mid air Brian let out a blood curtailing NOOOOOOOooo! Then she hit the water, and so did the box and the music. Then suddenly the entire cemetery glowed a bright green. The green light got brighter and brighter, so that it was too much to look at. As suddenly as the light consumed the graveyard, it disappeared. The cemetery was back to normal. There was not a zombie in sight, neither was Brian. The audience cheered with a standing ovation. Soon FiFi showed up, shaking her thick fur all over the place. I ran toward her, through were the force field was. Nobody knows how close they all came to death, or worse. The public was still oblivious to the real magic surrounding them in their world. And our secret is still safe, for the time being. We sat down and enjoyed the movie. I hate zombies. Sleep came to me easier than I thought it would. I didn�t lay in bed worrying about what was going to happen the next day. Well, now the next day was here, and I woke up refreshed and ready for the day. I let FiFi out to do here business before we head to the festivities in Evans City. I got dressed and equipped myself for my encounter; reset my magic locks on the front door as we exited the house. We piled into the car and headed for the celebration. I don�t think I forgot anything this time. Traffic was light all the way up the turnpike and most of Lindsey road. As I approached the end of route 528/Lindsey rd. the traffic slowed dramatically, and was almost at a standstill on west Main st. I found a decent parking place on a side street, leached FiFi, and started walking toward the Living Dead Festival. �We have two hours until we go our separate ways, and release the dead from their slumber, with an unquenchable thirst for human brains. Just like those many years ago, for my father. George Romero, cheated my father out of fame, and Charles had cut a deal with the queen of darkness to make the movie real, using real zombies. My father had to pay for Romero�s arrogance, with his life. Now they will all pay for their arrogance. Everyone, make sure you CD is in its place, and your boom box is functioning properly. Let�s play some zombie music, just to make sure all is well.� Then as all ten followers clicked their play buttons, the most famous zombie song of all time blasted out of the speakers. �The King of pop would be proud. It�s amazing what a great song and a little magic spell can do. Turn off your boxes and head out to your destinations, and remember don�t turn on your box until 7:00 p.m. Do as you wish �til then.� The festival was crowded with all kinds of people. There were families, couples, and those die hard movie fans dressed up like zombies. �You know FiFi, if he wakes the dead in the Evans City cemetery; everybody will think it�s a publicity stunt until its way too late. We sure have our job cut out for us today, and I, we, have to succeed.� For the next few hours we enjoyed the food booths, and games. We ate rice cereal treats shaped like coffins, Gelatin shaped like brains, and perogies shaped like perogies and red funnel cakes that looked like intestines. FiFi�s and my favorites were the cream filled candies that looked like eyeballs. The town plans on showing the movie on the sides of two barns painted white, in two locations on the outskirts of town, and one blow up screen near the entrance of the cemetery. All three movies were start at 7:30, just as dusk came, and the shadows were getting longer. I played the dime toss, and threw some darts, and won Tiffany a stuffed zombie. It was getting late, so we made our way toward the blow up screen near the cemetery entrance. Brian finally was able to make his way through the crowd, and walked without being disturbed to the front of the eager spectators. Wearing a T-shirt that has STAFF printed on both front and back didn�t hurt either. In the dying sunlight on this crispy evening the headstones seemed to move. The pond near them was like a mirror reflecting the sunlight off the misty edges of the still water. Glaring across the field of victims, his large eyes spots a familiar face, Jonathan Harris, Damn, what�s he doing here? This is not the time to stop because some young, almost wizard, goodie two shoes is here. He can�t possibly stop me and the dark queen from getting the revenge I deserve. I�ll save him for me; while he�s busy saving people from real killers I�ll stab him with my wand. It won�t kill him, but infect him with dark power, that will spread through his body and soon change his way of thinking and acting. The queen of darkness will be so pleased with my gift of him to her. Jonathan spots Brian in the distance, on the other side of the spectators, making his way unhindered into the cemetery. As Brian clears the people gathering to watch the movie, it becomes clear that he is carrying a boom box, in his left hand, and swinging it like he hadn�t a care in the world. As Brian strolls deeper between the grave markers, Jonathan gets to his feet and tells FiFi to follow. Soon both of them are within a hundred feet of Brian. Suddenly, Jonathan comes to an abrupt stop, as he slams against a magical force field. �Enjoying the festival Jonathan?� Brian shouts out, as he positions the boom box atop a flat topped headstone.� I really wish you could join me, but it�s not my force field. It�s been made to stop any magic from getting anywhere near me, that might keep me from doing what I have to do. �Do know what I have to do Jonathan? I have to avenge my father, and destroy the man who caused him to lose his life.� Jonathan tried every spell and potion he had, exhausted his energy rings and his wand. All he had left was his cue stick and his bracelet to protect him, if need be. He was beat, and he was about to lose to Brian and something or someone much more powerful then he was. Brian looked at his watch, then turned and smiled at Jonathan. In the blink of your eye, two fingers press down on the play button. The air filled with the zombie song. The ground around us began to shake as hands and heads pierced their way out of the soil. Within a minute the zombies were standing and walking toward the crowd. The people spotted the living dead and saw the green glow that surrounded them, and cheered, thinking it to be actors, not the real things. You could hear them from a distance, exclaiming, �I need brains.� These zombies were all too real and they were hungry, for real. If I can�t stop them many people will die tonight. The hungry zombies were making their way toward the people. Wait a minute; it�s a force field against magic. �Come here FiFI.� Jonathan calls, and grabs at his dogs neck to remove the magic collar, but it�s not there. �FiFi, go get the music and get it wet, go for a swim.� At first she just stared toward the music, then, suddenly, she took off running straight for the music. Jonathan drew power to his staff and kept firing at the force field to distract Brian. Before Brian knew what was happening, FiFi grabbed the boom box between her teeth and ran like a big brown bear toward the pond. Brian drew his wand and began shooting at FiFi, in an attempt to stop her, but the headstones were getting in the way. FiFi became air born as she jumps into the pond. While she�s in mid air Brian let out a blood curtailing NOOOOOOOooo! Then she hit the water, and so did the box and the music. Then suddenly the entire cemetery was engulfed in blackness. Then, as suddenly as the darkness consumed the graveyard, it disappeared. The cemetery was back to normal. There was not a zombie in sight, neither was Brian. The queen of darkness was collecting her payment in full from Brian, since he failed. Like father, like , I guess. The audience cheered with a standing ovation. Soon FiFi showed up, shaking her thick wet fur all over the place. I ran toward her, through were the force field was. Nobody knows how close they all came to death, or worse. The public was still oblivious to the real magic surrounding them in their world. And our secret is still safe, for the time being. Exhausted we sat down and watched the movie. We stayed up late celebrating our defeat of an evil attempt to undermine our job of protecting the public from dark magic. Since FiFi was the hero, I treated her to all her favorite things available to eat at the festival, especially ice cream. We got home and collapsed into bed. We were awakened by the clanking of the knocker or the front door. After disarming the door I let Tiffany inside. She said she only had a minute, but wanted to stop by and remind me, she was collecting on my rain check from two days age. She planed on going out tonight. She surprised me by getting tickets to the 50th anniversary showing of Night of the living dead. She was so excited, I just couldn�t tell her. I hate zombies. good sex is good sex. it doesn't matter where it comes from.[/COLOR |
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Hi, Serina. I am only seeing the first line of the story... ??
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