after the potion and save the kingdom.” Barth headed out the window before stopping and abruptly turning around. He pulled rat Heather out of his pants pocket and placed her in the wizard’s hand. “Oh, I almost forgot, I need you to cure Heather. Douchebagga turned her into a rat.”
The wizard scowled down at the rat. “So I see.”
Barth struck a prayer pose. “Can you help her wizard?” he begged. “It would really mean a lot to me.”
The wizard gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Barth beamed. “Thank you.” He turned back toward the window and snaked one leg through the opening. “Don’t worry, King Dump and Wizard Dilligaf, I will free the kingdom from this zombie curse. You can depend on me.”
The king slapped his forehead. “We’re all doomed.”
Just as Barth had climbed onto Drag’s back, a woman’s cry for help could be heard from the king’s courtyard.
Barth and Drag exchanged puzzled looks.
“That didn’t sound like a zombie’s cry,” Barth said.
“Should we go help her?” Drag asked.
Barth worried his bottom lip as he looked down at the horde of zombies who’d converged on the tower. Fortunately, the zombies who were pressing against the wall were all being fried by the force-field, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they got through.
The woman’s shrill cries resounded again. “Fly down here and help me you Goddamned idiots, before I’m killed!”
Barth shrugged. “Maybe we should go help for just a minute.”
He and Drag flew toward the horde of zombies who’d assembled in the king’s courtyard. They were all swarming a familiar looking buxom blonde who was doing a poor job trying to fend off the zombies by hurling screaming mice at their heads. She wore nothing but a g-string bikini.
Barth whistled low and then reminded himself that he wasn’t interested in the blonde. He had a beautiful witch rat waiting for him after he saved the kingdom.
* * *
Cindy Rella held her nose while impatiently tapping her foot.
Drag sat beside her on the grass in the center of the courtyard and wearily eyed Barth. Sure, he was glad his friend finally found his calling, but killing flesh-eating corpses was gross. Not to mention they stunk to high heaven. He was certainly glad he’d applied extra Chanel Number Five perfume this morning. That shit could drown out almost any other scent within the radius of a wingspan. Well, almost any other scent.
He only hoped they’d be able to wash the smell of decaying zombie flesh out of his new chiffon dress. He couldn’t imagine that dry cleaning bill. Maybe Barth would get over-time pay for killing zombies.
He looked over at his friend, who was loping off heads left and right and cheering for himself while doing it.
“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”
“You should try it. Here, want my sword?” Barth held out his sword which was dripping with blood and some unidentified green matter.
Yuck.
Drag wasn’t even about to let that filth touch his new coat of nail polish. With a flick of the wrist, he waved away the sword as he leered at an approaching zombie girl who was carrying a basket of what looked like rotting fingers and toes.
Her crushed red velvet hooded cape was ripped and stained with green ooze. Drag eyed the expensive-looking material. Such a shame. He’d been meaning to have a red velvet dress made for himself—one with sleeves that draped off the shoulders. He’d have to ask his tailor, whom hopefully wasn’t eaten or a zombie, to make him one after Barth’s next payday.
As the zombie girl slowly approached the edge of Drag’s gown, he inhaled a deep rush of air and then blew out a long stream of fire. By the time he finished, all that was left of the zombie was a pile of ash.
Barth lowered his sword and stared slack-jawed at the girl’s ashes. “Oh, I guess that works, too.”
Drag shook his head. If memory served him, Big Bad Wolf was friends with the