Читать книгу Beach Blanket Zombie - Mark McLaughlin - Страница 5

Beach Blanket Zombie

Lornetta fluttered her false eyelashes at her hunky boyfriend. “Golly, I can hardly wait for the big pig roast tonight, Turnpike.” She shifted on her beach towel to give him a better view of her new bikini top.

Turnpike flashed her a big toothy grin. “Honeybee, it’s gonna be a gas! Big Kuka-Lu-Lu and the Beachtones are even gonna make the scene.”

“Big Kuka-Lu-Lu? He’s the grooviest! Except for you, of course!” She gazed up into his sky-blue eyes and wondered: Would tonight be the night? Would Turnpike actually make all her dreams come true and let her wear his class ring?

A sea gull, flying in from the open waters, squawked wildly. “Man, that bird is loony tunes!” Turnpike said. He turned toward their friends, who were playing volleyball. “Moonray! Darlena! Sandburn! Foreign exchange student Yvetta! What’s up with that wacky bird?”

Yvetta pursed her glossy pink lips. “Perhaps it has—how you say?—an emotional disorder.”

Lornetta laughed. “You kooky foreigners with all your Freud and whatnot! I’d better not tell you about those doughnuts and sausages in my dream last night. Moonray, what do you think?”

Moonray turned his goofy patched hat sideways—he did that whenever he had to think really hard. “Hmmmm. I know that government island where they do those creepy, far-out DNA experiments is about three miles that way.” He pointed out to sea.

Sandburn nodded. “That’s right, dude. Big Kuka-Lu-Lu works out there when he’s not singing and racing dune buggies.”

“Golly!” Darlena moaned, dreamy-eyed. “I didn’t know the Big K worked in a fancy lab. Yvetta’s so lucky to have him for a boyfriend! So he’s some kind of scientist, huh?”

“Yep!” Turnpike said, “and he’s half-Swedish and half-Hawaiian, and a prince on both sides of the family. He’s a best-selling novelist, too. Why, here he comes now!”

A muscular, bronzed man with thick blonde hair and startling green eyes swam to shore. “Hey, gang! I’m sure glad I found you crazy cats. We gotta get out of here, and pronto!”

Lornetta gasped. “Leave our favorite beach? Whyever for?”

Five other young bronzed men also swam to shore, with guitars strapped to their backs. Big Kuka-Lu-Lu grinned. “I’m sure glad the band is okay. They work out on the government island, too.” He rushed up to Yvetta. “Sweetie, in case we don’t get out of this scrape alive, I just want to say: I love you!”

Yvetta swooned into his meaty arms. “I—how you say?—love you, too. But why are you acting so funny? I bet it’s because of those genetic experiments on the island. My uncle who works out there—Dr. Frankensvenson—has mentioned them from time to time.”

“It was one crazy shindig out on that island last night, baby!” Big Kuka-Lu-Lu cried. “You see, we had a pig roast and I was the chef. We cooked up an old sow—the mother of all the pigs we’ve been experimenting on. I even made bacon sandwiches. I just looooove bacon!” He licked his full but undeniably manly lips. “Unfortunately, an unwelcome guest crashed the party. You see, we’d mixed in some radiation-infused human chromosomes with the DNA of one of the sow’s little piglets, and it grew into a mutant that looked like a human, except it had a curly tail.”

Lornetta, who was eavesdropping from a polite distance, grinned as she said, “A curly tail? That sounds cute!”

Big Kuka-Lu-Lu shivered. “The tail may have been cute, but the rest of him was a freaked-out nightmare! He had crazy crooked teeth and one eye was way bigger than the other—and it glowed! The mutant tried to attack Dr. Frankensvenson last week, so the doc shot him dead. But the crazy thing came back as a zombie!”

Yvetta cocked her head to one side. “Why did he do a silly thing like that?”

“Because he’s radioactive!” said Big Kuka-Lu-Lu. “We stuck him in a cage, but somewhere also the line he’d also developed psychic powers, so he read our minds and found out what we did to her mom. So he busted out of his cage, found a chainsaw and a surfboard, and crashed our party.”

“So, he was the unwelcome guest, yes?” Yvetta asked.

Big Kuka-Lu-Lu nodded happily. “You catch on quick, dollface! I’ve written a song about what happened then. Hit it, boys!”

The Beachtones strummed their guitars—except for Slim, who blew on a conch shell—and Big Kuka-Lu-Lu began to sing:

“Dancing to the beat, eatin’ lots of meat—bikini beach bacon tastes so sweet. But looky out to sea, whatever can it be—something on a surfboard, golly gee!”

The Beachtones sang the chorus: “He’s a … beach blanket zombieeeee! Beach blanket zombieeeee!”

Big Kuka-Lu-Lu sang on. “Genes got messed in a government test—one piggy acts different from the rest! He’s an undead male with a corkscrew tail—if they throw him in a cell I ain’t raisin’ bail!”

“He’s a … beach blanket zombieeeee! Beach blanket zombieeeee!”

“Zombie lost his cool, stole a powertool—evil psycho-killer screamin’ PORKERS RULE. He’s got a crazy plan, gonna find the man—who cooked up his mama in a fryin’ pan.”

“He’s a … beach blanket zombieeeee! Beach blanket zombieeeee!”

At this point, Slim performed a brief but stirring conch shell solo. Then Big Kuka-Lu-Lu continued: “Ravenous and rude, flatulent and crude—zombie’s steamin’ mad and I’m totally screwed. Gonna eat my nuts, tear out all my guts—no more sex with bikini sluts!”

“He’s a … beach blanket zombieeeee! Beach blanket zombieeeee!”

Big K and the band then dropped to their knees and sang together: “Oh, yeaaaahhhh!”

Yvetta put the back of her hand to her forehead. “I am—how you say?—terrified. Where is that awful zombie now?”

Big Kuka-Lu-Lu shrugged. “We don’t know. That crazy zombie has been killing scientists all last night and today, too. He even scared a sea gull. That was when I decided to swim over here. I figured, since that zombie was psychic, it might have read my mind enough to know about the beach party here tonight!”

Suddenly an attractive blonde businesswoman in a pinstriped blazer, mini-skirt, and high-heels rushed up to Big Kuka-Lu-Lu. She put down the briefcase she was carrying and shook his hand. “How do you do? I just heard your song while I was buying a hot dog and frankly—it’s terrific! I’m Marigold DeLaVanQuester, the big record producer, and I’m gonna make you a star! You’ll be rich!”

“Marigold DeLaVanQuester? Wow!” cried Lornetta, who was still eavesdropping. “She’s the lady who turns unknowns into stars! I read about her in all the Hollywood magazines!”

Big Kuka-Lu-Lu turned to Yvetta and hugged her to his manly chest. “Did you hear that? Now we can move away from this unholy, zombie-infested beach. We can bring the gang, too, since I’ll be needing backup singers and roadies!”

The gang cheered, “Hurray! Hurray for Big Kuka-Lu-Lu!” The band began to play and they all danced. Lornetta and Turnpike slipped away to have their own private skinny-dipping party … which actually worked out in their favor. Two minutes after they left the scene, Yvetta put a dainty finger to her temple.

“I just—how you say?—realized something,” cried the enticing foreign exchange student. She looked at Marigold DeLaVanQuester. “There isn’t a hot dog stand on this beach.”

The producer smiled as she opened her briefcase. “A gold star for Lady Einstein here. No hot dog stand yet! But it’ll be open for business in about ten minutes.”

Marigold pulled off her—or rather, his rubber mask just before revving up the mini-chainsaw in the briefcase. A corkscrew tail, wagging briskly with happiness, popped up from under the mini-skirt. “Human hot dogs, and they’re all for me! Because after all—” Foamy spittle flew from his leathery lips as he sang, “I’m a …. beach blanket zombieeeee! Beach blanket zombieeeee! Oh, yeaaaahhhh!”