The Sinister Mr. Corpse by Jeff Strand

unbuttoned his
suit and then the white dress shirt underneath it. Stanley saw a
bullet hole in his chest, just to the left of his solar plexus, but
there was no blood.
    It hurt like hell.
    "Stanley, can you hear me?" Brant repeated.
"Curse if you can hear me."
    "Fuck!"
    "He's fine," said Veronica.
    "I'm not fine! I just got shot! I'm the
exact opposite of fine, thank you very much! Maybe we should shoot
you and see just how fine you feel, huh? Oh, I know, let's find the
psycho in the back of the room and borrow his gun!"
    Veronica put her hand on Stanley's shoulder.
"Shhhhh. You're babbling."
    "I'm not babbling! I'm ranting!"
    "Either way, settle down. You need to stay
calm."
    "It hurts."
    "I know it hurts, but you'll be okay. See?
There's no blood."
    Stanley looked at the gunshot wound again. "I
know you meant that to be reassuring, but really, the lack of blood
is kinda freaking me out." He touched the hole and winced.
    "We'll have Dr. Arnzin dig out the bullet as
soon as possible," said Brant.
    "Oh, now that's making me feel
calmer."
    "I suppose we could just leave it lodged in
your body."
    "Don't be a prick."
    "I am not the one engaging in prick-like
behavior, Mr. Dabernath. I don't expect you to be grateful for what
we've done for you, but you could at least be somewhat less
hostile."
    Stanley sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. It just
hurts!"
    "Did I hear right?" asked Brant. "Did the
Amazing Mr. Corpse just apologize? What kind of surreal world have
we entered?"
    "Don't be a prick."
    There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Brant?"
asked a voice through a small speaker.
    "Yes?"
    "The shooter has been subdued and locked
away, sir. We're evacuating the press."
    Brant stood up. "Good, I want to be there for
the questioning."
    "He's unconscious at the moment."
    "Not for long. Veronica, take Stanley back to
the bunker and have the bullet removed."
    "Yes, sir."
    Brant exited the room, closing the door
behind him.
    "I'm sorry you got shot," said Veronica.
    "That's okay."
    "When you're a scientific miracle, it's only
natural that some people are going to be afraid of what you could
mean to the future and lash out like that."
    "If you say so. Personally, I want to know
why he just didn't assume that I was some idiot in a spooky
mask."
    "That's what most people believe, I'm
sure."
    "Which part? The idiot or the spooky
mask?"
    Veronica smiled. "You're really something,
you know that?"
    "Yeah, but think how much it would've sucked
if you'd spent all that money to bring a boring guy back to life.
You know, the pain in my chest is fading pretty quickly. Is that
the natural order of things or should I be concerned?"
    "No, it's fine."
    "Good. So am I, like, immortal?"
    "The Immortal Mr. Corpse?"
    "I'm serious. I mean, can I die? What if he
shot me in the brain?"
    "I'm not sure."
    "What if he threw a machete at me and lopped
off my head? Would I just be this living head, rolling around on
the floor?"
    "That seems unlikely."
    "Unlikely, but not impossible, right? What if
I get burnt up? Will I be this pile of living ashes? So I could get
cremated and scattered to the wind, and each individual ash would
be alive, and some old guy might accidentally inhale me and I could
be living in his stomach until his digestive juices start to--"
    Veronica placed her finger on his mouth.
"Stanley? Stop talking."
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "Let's get you back so we can take care of
that bullet."
    "Is it going to hurt?"
    "Yes, it's going to hurt, and you're going to
use lots of vulgar language, and you're going to be sarcastic
towards the nice doctor who's just trying to make your chest
bullet-free."
    "You think I'm a jerk, don't you?"
    "No, I just think you like to behave like
one."
    "But you've got to admit that I'm justified
in being annoyed with the way my life has turned out. I'm gross and
people are shooting at me."
    "Ah, yes, but there's a major hole in your
argument."
    "What's that?"
    "I've done my research. You were a jerk
before your resurrection."
    Stanley held up his