Greatest Zombie Movie Ever by Jeff Strand Page A

what’s left of its head as she walks away.
    VERONICA
    I’m so very tired. Oh, to sleep!
    How wonderful it would be to sleep!
    Justin wondered how Gabe and Bobby were doing. Both of them should be awake, so texting them wouldn’t disturb them. But they might be in the zone. It wasn’t cool to interrupt somebody who was in the zone. When he got into the zone later tonight, he wouldn’t want either of them breaking his concentration. The zone was crucial if they were going to finish this screenplay before school tomorrow.
    Before school today , technically.
    Those blankets on his bed sure looked enticing. They were the same blankets he’d had for the past three or four years, but they seemed different somehow. Warmer. Fluffier. Comfier.
    Had his blanket just moved?
    Justin swore the blanket had turned down a bit at the corner, inviting him underneath the covers.
    No! He had to resist!
    He’d been in this situation many times. “Oh, why didn’t I start studying for that test a week ago?” he’d often wail. “I could’ve studied for a mere fifteen minutes a day and my life would be wonderful! But now…oh, the misery of my existence!” But he always got the studying done. And this was for something that he liked a lot more than math. He’d fight through this. He’d get his third of the script done, no matter what.
    You don’t need to write that script tonight , his bed said in a low purr. We haven’t been spending enough time together. Don’t you love me anymore? Just slip between the sheets and close your eyes, and the script will be magically finished when you wake up.
    His bed was lying to him. Justin would not be fooled.
    I would never lie to you, his bed assured him. We’re the best of friends forever. You know you’re sleepy, and I’m as cozy as snuggling with a hundred kittens. Come on, Justin. I have your best interests at heart. Trust me.
    You can totally trust him, said the pillow. Just one hour of sleep. That’s all you need. Think how much more productive you’ll be if you get in that one short hour. I’m the softest, most wonderful pillow in the world. Why would you want to break my fluffy little heart?
    Justin was not going to let them win this battle of wills. He was going to write all night, and no inanimate object—a bed for example—was going to break him.
    â€œThat’s enough out of you,” Justin said, but not out loud because otherwise he’d be speaking to a bed.
    You’ve just made a powerful enemy, his bed said with a snarl. You’ll regret your disloyalty! The next time you get in me, I’m going to bite you in half! Right in half with my sharp, glistening fangs! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! By the way, there’s a scary clown in your closet.
    At least his pinkies weren’t twitching anymore.
    No, wait. Maybe his eyeballs were twitching, and that just made his pinkies look normal.
    Veronica sees another horde of zombies coming toward her. But unlike the other zombies she’s killed today, these are running! Jeez, am I tired. How can I be so alert and yet so tired at the same time? I think I can actually feel my pancreas working. Does this stuff I’m typing right now count as official productivity? Probably not.
    So tired.
    So very tired.
    So........................

7
    When Justin’s alarm went off, it startled him so badly that he almost fell out of his chair. He’d written thirty-three pages. His sense of accomplishment faded a bit as he scrolled through the script and discovered that most of them were the phrase want to sleep cannot sleep want to sleep cannot sleep want to sleep bed will eat my head typed over and over in various fonts. After he deleted the evidence of his madness, he was left with twelve pages.
    No big deal. When he added that to whatever Gabe and Bobby had written, they’d have a pretty big chunk of the script completed. It would at least be