Grampa's Zombie BBQ Read online

  MEET THE GHOULISH CAST:

  Master zombie fighter and dangerous amateur chemist.

  Keeper of the Pork Cracklins. Trained in the fine art of napping.

  Queen of the Rumbling Shifty-Foot technique. Highly skilled in covert rescue operations.

  Master scratcher of furniture and hacker-upper of hair balls.

  Local residents of Eternal Naps Cemetery. Crave humans and baked beans.

  A TALE OF UTTER TERROR…

  GRILLED TO PERFECTION!

  For Mama and Shmuggs

  Special thanks to:

  Ashley &. Carolyn Grayson, Dan Hooker,

  Suppasak Viboonlarp, Mark Mayes, Jackie Greed,

  Rosa Jimenez, Joe Kocian, Amy Pennington, Alejandra,

  Andrea, Sangeeta and Saho at Little, Brown

  and Diane and Corey Scroggs.

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2006 by Kirk Scroggs

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  First eBook Edition: December 2008

  ISBN: 978-0-316-05474-4

  The Warner Books name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Book design by Saho Fujii

  The illustrations for this book were done in Staedtler ink on Canson Marker paper,then digitized with Adobe Photoshop for color and shade.

  The text was set in Humana Sans Light and the display type was hand lettered.

  Contents

  MEET THE GHOULISH CAST:

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1: Let's Do Lunch

  CHAPTER 2: The Big Announcement

  CHAPTER 3: Kid Science

  CHAPTER 4: Don't Try This at Home!

  CHAPTER 5: Morning Marinade

  CHAPTER 6: Party Time!

  CHAPTER 7: There Goes the Sun

  CHAPTER 8: Uninvited Guests

  CHAPTER 9: The Not-So-Final Showdown

  CHAPTER 10: How to Entertain Zombies

  CHAPTER 11: A Vord of Varning!

  CHAPTER 12: Uh-Oh- Part I

  CHAPTER 13: Total Chaos

  CHAPTER 14: Trapped!

  CHAPTER 15: UP YONDER!

  CHAPTER 16: The Blame Game

  CHAPTER 17: Dead Bug Walkin’!

  CHAPTER 18: To the Rescue

  CHAPTER 19: Secret Weapon

  CHAPTER 20: uh-oh part II

  CHAPTER 21: An Embarrassing Confession

  CHAPTER 22: Not That Embarrassing!

  CHAPTER 23: The Plan Comes Together

  CHAPTER 24: The Not-So-Great Escape

  CHAPTER 25: Uh-Oh Part III

  CHAPTER 26: It's Raining Borscht!

  CHAPTER 27: Adios!

  CHAPTER 28: Epilogue of the living Dead

  CRACKPOT SNAPSHOT

  WARNING:

  CHAPTER 1

  Let's Do Lunch

  Ladies and gentlemen, friends, neighbors, and out-of-town guests… since the dawn of time, zombies have captivated the imaginations of sick individuals all over the globe. From the voodoo rituals of Zambowi Island to the classic zombie movies like Night of the Brain Munchers and Benji Conquers the Zombies.

  But there is one more zombie tale to be told. A tale so horrifying that your spine will tingle, your toes will curl up in their socks, and your nose hairs will wiggle uncontrollably. This is the story of Grampa's Zombie BBQ!

  We begin our story with a scene from the classic zombie film Fried Spleen & Tomatoes.

  No, wait! That's just Vera, the Gingham County Elementary School lunch lady, dishing up some of her world-famous* Bulgarian sausage and sourcrowt goulash. (*World famous for causing uncontrollable upchucking, that is.)

  That's me, Wiley, about to dig into some seriously stinky cuisine. And that guy next to me is jubal, my best friend in all of Gingham County - besides Grampa, of course.

  “This cafeteria should be declared a federal disaster area,” I said, staring at my plate of pulsating slop.

  “And Vera should be brought to justice for crimes against humanity,” added Jubal.

  Some folks say she performs voodoo rituals on her three bean and cabbage chili!

  Others say she uses genuine skunk meat in her spicy Indonesian wontons!

  And noted physicians say that her kidney bean and oatmeal pasta with BBQ sauce is not carb friendly!

  CHAPTER 2

  The Big Announcement

  “BARBECUE SAUCE!” I shouted. “That reminds me!” Then I stood up and made a very important and dramatic announcement: “Children of Gingham Elementary, I beseech you! Drop those sporks and put down those chocolate milks!

  “You're all invited to my grampa's annual barbecue tomorrow at 2:22 PM!

  “There'll be games, sporting events, cold beverages and, of course, my gramma's prizewinning honey paprika barbecue sauce! That's right- real edible food! Not this tub of guts they call goulash! Oh … and please, everyone, bring a covered dish, preferably mayonnaise free.”

  The cafeteria erupted in cheers. This was going to be the best barbecue ever!

  CHAPTER 3

  Kid Science

  Later that evening at Grampa's house, Channel 5’s smarmy weatherman, Blue Norther, went on about some solar eclipse.

  “Hi, folks! Blue Norther here. We've just gotten word from the Gingham County Observatory that tomorrow at 4:44 PM, there will be a total solar eclipse! It will be an amazing sight only seen once every few years! Just make sure, whatever you do, that you don't look at it! Staring at an eclipse could cause blindness, glaucoma, cataracts, or your eyeballs could burst into flames!”

  Normally, jubal and I would rush to the TV at the mere mention of eyeballs bursting into flames, but we were too busy with our science homework. We carefully mixed various ingredients and compounds under the strict adult supervision of Grampa… .

  Actually, Grampa was napping.

  “And now, I shall add the final ingredient to my secret compound,” I announced.

  “Wiley, maybe you shouldn't add the Tabasco sauce!” Jubal warned. “I've got a bad feeling.”

  “NONSENSE. MY DEAR BOY!” I said defiantly. “What if Thomas Edison hadn't added the Tabasco sauce? We wouldn't have light bulbs today! What if Sir Isaac Newton hadn't added the Tabasco sauce?”

  “No Fig Newtons?” asked Jubal.

  “Precisely!” I said.

  CHAPTER 4

  Don't Try This at Home!

  And if I hadn't added the Tabasco sauce…

  that huge fireball wouldn't have shot over our heads…

  soared across the room…

  and landed on Grampa's unsuspecting foot, which went up in flames like a batch of dried twigs!

  “HEY” Grampa said groggily as he woke up.

  “What's that delicious aroma? Smells like bacon and blue cheese!”

  “It's nothing, Grampa,” I said nervously. “Go back to sleep.”

  Needless to say, Gramma was none too pleased. “I will not have dangerous chemical experiments in this house!” she bellowed.

  “What if that fireball had hit my new drapes instead of Grampa's foot?!”

  Gramma forced us to dispose of our new compound, which I called PPK.

  “It stands for Plutonium Powder Keg,” I declared. “Jubal, we must hide this dangerous yet important formula where no human hands will touch it.” So we hid it high on a shelf in the shed out in the backyard.

  CHAPTER 5

  Morning Marinade<
br />
  The next morning at 6 AM, Gramma was already up trying out her new Super Marinade 5000. “Wow, check out Gramma!” I said.

  “I've got 375 chickens and 53 yards of sausage to marinade with my honey paprika barbecue sauce!” said Gramma as she hosed down the chickens. “That's the secret to my barbecue –lots of paprika! – Paprika, paprika, paprika!”

  While Gramma prepared the poultry, Merle and I tested out the Slick ‘n’ Slide to make sure it was at the proper slickness.

  Then I helped Grampa fire up the behemoth George Porkin Megagrill XE, which Grampa ignited by remote control, for fear of singeing his other foot.

  “OOOOOH! I ALMOST FORGOT!” yelled Gramma. “Don't forget to make the lemonade!”

  “IT'S ALL RIGHT, GRANNY” said Grampa.

  “Merle's mixin’ it as we speak!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Party Time!

  By 2:30 PM, most of the guests had arrived and the party was hoppin’.

  The delicious smell of BBQ brought visitors in from all over Gingham County.

  At 3:00 we held our usual Watermelon Seed Spitting Championship. Gramma finds this quite disgusting.

  Then it was time for Extreme Horseshoe Tossing.

  At 4:00 we had our annual Gingham County Deaf Jam Poetry Reading (my least favorite BBQ activity).

  And at 4:44 the local branch of Heck's Angels were in the middle of a mean game of volleyball with the Sisters of No Mercy when …

  CHAPTER 7

  There Goes the Sun

  Suddenly, the sky went dark as an ominous shadow covered the sun. It was the eclipse! Blue Norther was right!

  “OH, FIDDLE!” complained Gramma, sporting her new swimsuit. “I was ready to tan!”

  “Well, this stinks,” I said. “Maybe today isn't such a good day for a barbecue.”

  “Never fear, Wiley,” said Grampa. “A little electromagnetic interference won't ruin our party. Besides, what else could go wrong?”

  He had to ask.

  Vera, the lunch lady, showed up with 27 gallons of her spicy beet borscht (that's ice-cold beet soup, for the uninformed). Everyone gasped and youngsters hid under the picnic tables.

  “STOP!” I said. “Halt! Alto! I'm sorry. No further guests are permitted on the property! We have reached capacity. Besides, that borscht is considered a toxic substance by the League of Human Decency!” (I have to admit, I made that last bit up.)

  “But… you said everyone who brought a covered dish was invited,” said Vera, softly shedding a solitary tear.

  “AND HE MEANT IT!” interrupted Grampa. “Of course you're invited! Wiley, where are your manners? Get this poor woman some refreshments and go put this borscht in the garage with the other dangerous chemicals!”

  CHAPTER 8

  Uninvited Guests

  Just when things couldn't get any worse, Old Man Copperthwaite, the crazy gravedigger, came running and screaming like a banshee, “They're a comin’! The zombies are a comin’! They popped out of their graves and they're headed this way! Hundreds of'em!”

  “Hundreds of them?” said Gramma.

  “I hope they bring covered dishes!”

  Sure enough, all of the residents of Eternal Naps Cemetery were crawling out of their graves and coming down the hill!

  A virtual army of the undead was heading our way, and they sure looked hungry.

  “DON'T PANIC!” Grampa assured the guests. “Everyone stay calm! There is nothing to fear! Zombies are people, just like you and me … except, of course, they've returned from the grave to eat our vital organs and perhaps gnaw on our bones a bit and maybe chew on our toes like jellybeans… but other than that, there is nothing to fear!”

  The zombies got closer, drooling and licking their rotten chops.

  Our guests were getting nervous and I had to prevent a panic.

  “DON'T WORRY FOLKS!” I shouted. “We have guard hounds! They'll protect us!”

  But Esther and Chavez were already bunkered in.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Not-So-Final Showdown

  “OH, WELL”I shouted, pulling out my slingshot. “It's up to us to fight the zombie menace! Citizens of Gingham County, arm yourselves!”

  Gramma whipped out her kitchen arsenal.

  The nuns struck their Praying Mantis stance

  Grama napped!

  The Zombies Slowly lumbered in and attacked!

  “Oh, I can't stand it!” jubal cried, covering his face with his hands. “The crunching of bones! The munching and smacking sounds of zombies eating our friends and neighbors! Oh, the humanity!”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted, “you can stop your wimpering, jubal! The zombies are eating the barbecue! They must have smelled Gramma's delicious honey paprika sauce!”

  ”I'LL BE!” said Gramma.

  “Wow, Granny!” exclaimed Grampa. “Your cooking usually sends people to their graves, not the other way around!”

  CHAPTER 10

  How to Entertain Zombies

  So the zombies ate chicken and sausage and ate and ate, as fast as Grampa could grill. “Grampa,” I said,“ this is shaping up to be the weirdest barbecue ever!”

  “You know you're right, Wiley,” agreed Grampa, “even weirder than the Great Sack Race Collision of 1987!”

  And things just got weirder….

  Jubal got into a doozy of a tetherball match with Julius R. Gingham, our town founder, who had unsuccessfully wrestled a rabid coyote in 1862.

  Gramma shared beauty secrets with the Ladies’ Quilting League, lost in the Great Blizzard of 1912.

  No BBQ would be complete without zombie karaoke (earplugs recommended).

  And we held what had to be the world's first zombie sack race!

  “These zombies may not talk much,” said Grampa, “but they're courteous and gracious guests. Who would've thought that we'd be dining with legendary cowboy Wild Bill Hiccup and his wife?”

  Grampa was right. Most people would think eating with a zombie would be pretty disgusting, but that just wasn't the case …

  except for when Wild Bill's nose fell into the potato salad.

  CHAPTER 11

  A Vord of Varning!

  “Ze zombie's appetite can never be satisfied!” came an eerie voice from the inflatable pool. It was Dr. Hans Lotion and his grandson, Jurgen. “Zey vill eat and eat and ven zey run out of food, zey vill eat vatever zey can get zeir zombie hands on! Zey vill eat anything!”

  “Anything?” I asked, a little worried.

  “Veil, almost anyzing,” said Hans. “You know ze little vite chunks in ze pork ‘n’ beans? Even zombies vill not eat zat.”

  “So why have they returned from the grave?” asked Gramma.

  “Could be anyzing,” said Hans. “Ze Solar eclipse, global varming, ze smell of your delicious honey paprika sauce. Ve may never know. Vat I do know is zis, ve must appease ze zombies’ appetites or suffer grave consequences!”

  CHAPTER 12

  Uh-Oh- Part I

  Nate Farkles made a poorly timed announcement at that moment. “Sorry, folks. We're out of barbecue!”

  An eerie silence fell over the party as the zombies stared at us, drooling. “Be very still, Wiley,” Grampa whispered. “Whatever you do, don't make any moves that might seem hostile or appetizing in any way.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Total Chaos

  Then the zombies went berserk and attacked the side dishes!

  They devoured all 92 pounds of potato salad…

  gnawed their way through forty-six ears of corn…

  and wolfed down 54 pounds of baked beans, which created a whole new explosive situation!

  When the beans were gone, the zombies came after us!

  “I don't want to alarm anyone,”shouted Grampa,“but our gassy zombie guests are still hungry!Run for your lives!”

  Some of the guests ran off into the woods.

  The nuns, being natural climbers, headed for Grampa's big oak.

  “LOOK. GRAMPA!”r />
  I shouted as we crowded into the house. “Heck's Angels are running away! Aren't bikers supposed to be tough?”

  “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!” said Grampa. “Real bikers don't ride electric scooters!”

  CHAPTER 14

  Trapped!

  Inside the house, we boarded everything up. “LOOK!” said Gramma, pointing at the TV. “Blue Norther is about to make an emergency announcement!”

  We all waited in hushed silence.

  “Hi, folks! Blue Norther here at the 51st annual Betty Crockpot Bake-Off, where I'm standing with Minnie Purvis, the grand prize winner! Not only has Minnie brought us a sample of her delicious Baked Nebraska with butter-creme filling, but she's agreed to share the ingredients to this delicious dish with our viewers right now!”

  “Zombies are attacking and that's his emergency news?” I griped.

  “And they call this journalism,” complained Grampa.

  “I gotta write this down,” said Gramma. “This is good stuff!”