This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. If you do see yourself you are probably undead and who wants to admit they are a zombie anyway. Except for Bob. Bob sacrificed himself bravely and unselfishly to save the world from a Ninja Zombie takeover. Feel free to stop and take a moment of silence for Bob. The story will wait. (A ninja star sails past the reader's head and impales itself to the wall next to the reader's ear). You might want to hurry with that quiet moment.
The Ninja Zombie War: Listen For The Screams
“Meow...MEOW. YOW!” Dobby walks through the house yowling loudly and repeatedly.
“Yes, kitty. What do you need?” Writer Lady asks meeting Dobby in the living room.
“Play with me.” Dobby demands.
“I fed you, gave you fresh water, scooped your box, brushed you and I tried to play with you. You wanted no part of it.”
“I wasn't ready.”
“That was twenty minutes ago. What could possibly have changed in the last twenty minutes?” Writer Lady asks.
“I finished my bath.” Dobby announces.
Writer Lady ponders his response for a moment. “You're sure about this? Because if I go get a toy you are required to play, there's no going back. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“You're sure?”
Dobby nods.
Writer Lady walks over to the toy basket. It's empty. She starts checking random corners and other spots where abandoned cat toys go to live. Nothing. “Dobby kitty. Where are your toys?”
Dobby makes a concentrated effort to look for the toys gazing heavenward. “I don't know.”
Writer Lady turns from her search to confirm that Dobby is helping. “Dobby the toys aren't stuck to the ceiling kitty.”
“Have you ever looked at the ceiling?” Dobby asks. “If you don't look how will you know?”
“Really? That's your argument?” Writer Lady asks, turning her attention away from Dobby to look under the couch cushions. “You looked at the ceiling. Now why don't you make yourself useful and crawl around underneath the couch?”
“Sorry Mom. I can't. I'm waiting.” Dobby says.
“Waiting?”
“Waiting to see if the house gives me my toys back.” Dobby says.
Writer Lady mutters and continues looking for cat toys. Several minutes pass. Five at least.
“Dobby kitty, where's the big red flashlight?” Writer Lady asks, she is holding a back scratcher in one hand and is tapping her open palm lightly with the other end of the scratcher.
Dobby watches her movements closely. “Um...”
“Come on kitty, spit it out. I don't want to be searching for this stuff all night.”
“Don't beat me?” Dobby says meekly.
Writer Lady stops tapping, thinking about what she has just been doing. She pales slightly and tosses the back scratcher on the couch. “I would never hurt you kitty. I love you. This all just so frustrating. There has got to be a better way to find these toys.” Writer Lady says flopping on the couch letting out a dramatically over sized sigh. She suffers so.
“We can get the toys back more quickly. But Mom? You are going to have to do some things you really don't want to do.” Dobby says.
“I don't care. Let's just do this.”
“Let me call the team.” Dobby says crossing to the far corner of the room where a tall table with a straight key and a set of steps appears. Dobby places paw to pad and starts his message.
“Who are you calling?” Writer Lady asks.
“The “T” team.”
“The “T” team?”
“Yes “T” team or Titys for short.” Dobby explains.
Writer Lady rises from the couch. “Dobby? You're sure? There's...there's no other way?”
“No Mom. There is no other way.”
Writer Lady groans.
“Never Fear! The Titys are here!” Tinkletoes announces proudly making an entrance from the kitchen into the living room. Tinkletoes and Carp are in full camouflage. Their faces and bodies are painted camouflage. Each are wearing night vision mono-goggles.
“What's the trouble Dobby?” Tinkletoes asks.
“Mom can't find any of my toys.” Dobby says.
“Toy Reconnaissance. I like it.” Tinkletoes says. “Carp needs practice with the night vision equipment.”
“You're the one who couldn't find his way out of the can.” Carp points out.
“Me? No. I never have trouble with my equipment.” Tinkletoes announces proudly and smiles.
“I had to come and get you. You were sitting on the floor crying.”
“Sometimes new equipment is confusing.” Tinkletoes admits.
“The lens cover was still on.”
“Don't forget Carp, I am the one who invited you to be a Tity in the first place. If you can't conduct yourself appropriately I may have to ask you to leave.”
Writer Lady stands in her living room listening to the exchange. Quietly making her way over to Dobby she says, “I don't like this. I think we have two options kitty. I can go out and buy you all new toys or we can let these two boobs find the toys if they don't kill each other first.”
“Titys Mom. They are Titys.”
“At this point they should just be fired.” Writer Lady says.
“It's too late for that Writer Lady.” Tinkletoes announces. “I teach men to fish. There will be three boobs tonight!”
A few minutes later Writer Lady finds herself fully ensconced in pink camo. There was make-up too. Yep. Pink face.
“If you two are in green camo why am I wearing pink?” Writer Lady asks.
“You're a girl.” Tinkletoes says.
“Isn't camo supposed to make you blend in with your surroundings? There is not much in this house that's green let alone pink.”
Tinkletoes shakes his head.
“Think of it this way Writer Lady, if the three of us made one giant boob you know which part you'd would be.” Tinkletoes offers.
“Thanks.” Writer Lady says and lowers her head.
Within minutes all three are on the floor crawling through the living room on their bellies. Tinkletoes and Carp have their night vision goggles on. Every few seconds Tinkletoes stops the procession.
“I told you. Butt down.” Tinkletoes reminds Writer Lady.
“My butt is down.”
“If you don't get it down further it could be shot off.”
“Are you carrying a gun?” Writer Lady asks.
“No.”
“Is Carp packing?”
“No.” Tinkletoes says.
“Then how is my butt going to get shot off? We are looking for toys.”
“Toy Reconnaissance.”
Writer Lady's face begins to redden. Then she calms. “Actually reconnaissance means to survey your surroundings, retrieval would be a much better word.” Writer Lady smiles and continues her crawl.
Tinkletoes catches up to her, “As the Commanding Officer I name the missions. Reconnaissance sounds better.”
“Until you used the wrong word.” Writer Lady points to the far end of the room. “I'll just be on the left end of the perimeter continuing search and rescue. If you need anything.”
Making her way to the left end of the perimeter which was also the left side of the couch, Writer Lady peers underneath. A bright light gleams in her eyes.
“I think I found one of the eyeballs. Reach out and grab it Writer Lady.” Carp says.
“I can't see anything. Which one is it?”
“The blue one.”
Writer Lady puts her hand up to one eye to soften the glare coming off of Carp's night vision goggle and get a better look.
“Too late. It's gone.” Carp says.
“The floor doesn't slope so the ball can't be gone unless someone touched it.” Writer Lady says. She glares back into the light in an effort to stress her argument.
“It's back.” Tinkletoes says. “Grab it now!” He has joined Carp at the right end of the couch.
“Just let me find the flashlight.” Writer Lady says, crawling around in the dark room.
“You don't need the flashlight it's right in front of you.” Tinkletoes says.
“If it was right in front of me I would have seen it already.” Writer Lady argues. “Carp? The flashlight is right behind you. Would you please get it for me?”
Carp looks at Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes gives Carp a quick nod. Reaching directly behind, Carp retrieves the Big Red Flashlight and tosses it on to the couch within easy reach of Writer Lady.
“Thanks.” Writer Lady says, reaching for the flashlight. Holding the the flashlight in front of her face she flips the light on.
“There it is!” Carp yells pointing.
Startled, Writer Lady drops the flashlight on her knee, reaches up and slaps her hand over her eye. “Ouch.”
“Oh sorry Ma'am. I guess I was wrong.” Carp admits.
“You think?” Writer Lady says, as her face throbs.
“You smacked yourself pretty good. We heard it real good down here.” Carp says. “So you know, if it bruises, your face won't just be pink anymore.”
“Thank you Carp. You sure know how to make a girl feel pretty.” Writer Lady says, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“You're welcome?”
Leaning back down Writer Lady uses the flashlight to look underneath the couch.
“There's nothing under here.”
“You sure?” Tinkletoes asks.
“I know what a cat toy looks like.” Writer Lady says glaring at Tinkletoes. “Unlike other people.”
“I'm sorry ma'am.” Carp looks at Tinkletoes and leans in to whisper. “She holds a grudge doesn't she?”
“Oh yeah. Just make sure you don't play with the feminine napkins. You'll never hear the end of it.” Tinkletoes answers.
“Why would I do that? What kind of a guy plays with feminine napkins?” Carp asks.
Tinkletoes gets quiet and pales.
“They weren't used were they?”
Tinkletoes shakes his head and changes the subject. “Where else would the toys be?” Tinkletoes asks Writer Lady.
“Anywhere. Especially on the floor or under the furniture. This is the spot they usually all end up.” Writer Lady answers.
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