'They're just exploiting it. Why does this thing have to be dumbed-down for the masses? Why aren't we hearing about the science involved instead of watching him act like a guest on Letterman? Where's the NOVA special? Why does everything have to be about the entertainment value?'
'Mr. Corpse is a freak, man! Did you see his ugly skull-lookin' face? Nasty. He's like Frankenstein. I've got nothing against the guy personally, but it's just not a face I need to be looking at. Yecch.'
'What I want to know is, if he had kids, would they come out alive or dead?'
'The Amazing Mr. Corpse makes him sound like a circus act. I expected him to start juggling or spinning plates. I know that Stanley Dabernath isn't really a good name for a zombie, but they've got to do better. Or else he's got to start juggling or spinning plates. I'd pay to see that, to be perfectly honest…'
'I thought it was a great interview, but dead guys should not wear blue.'
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
'Oh, come on!'
'You don't like it?' asked Veronica, tilting the poster as if viewing it at a slightly different angle might improve Stanley's opinion of it.
The glossy poster featured the words 'APPEARING TODAY: THE AMAZING MR. CORPSE' in large orange letters. The rest of the poster was an artist's rendition of Stanley wearing a three-piece suit, a top hat, and holding a cane. Stanley didn't object to the attire.
'I'm a skeleton!' he said.
'Well, yeah. It's not meant to be an actual picture of you. But it's eye-catching, isn't it?'
'Very eye-catching. But I'm a skeleton!'
'Why is that a problem?'
'Because that's not what I look like. Yeah, I've got splotches of decay all over my body, and the skin on my face is kinda stretched out so that it looks skeletal.' He tapped on the poster. 'But this is a skeleton! This is just bones! I'm not just bones!'
'It's symbolic.'
'It's symbolic of a skeleton! And I'm not a skeleton!'
'Stanley, I can understand what you're saying, and I didn't personally design the poster. But they felt the image would be less disturbing this way.'
'Oh, so now I'm disturbing?'
Veronica let out a frustrated sigh. 'I apologize. You've made enough obnoxious comments about it that I thought you were realistic about the effect your appearance might have on people. I didn't realize that I needed to tiptoe around the subject.'
Stanley took the poster and looked at it more closely. Maybe Veronica was right. He'd been pretty outspoken about being unattractive/grotesque, and bones were a better selling point than rot. He supposed it wasn't much different than a celebrity's photo being airbrushed to remove wrinkles and a saggy ass.
'All right,' he said, reluctantly. 'If I have to be a skeleton, I'll be a skeleton. But no jokes about snapping my wishbone, or 'You'd better get something to eat because I can see your ribs,' or 'Hey, Stanley, what's the hip bone connected to?' or anything like that.'
'I promise.'
'However, you can make all the boner jokes you want.'
'I probably won't do that very often.'
'Well, if you think of any, the offer stands.' He looked at the poster again. 'Wow, I have good bone structure.'
'These are going to be quick appearances,' Veronica explained. 'Basically just hit-and-runs. You'll wave to people from your limo, do a bunch of rapid-fire interviews, sign a bunch of autographs…just get to know the public.'
'I get a limo?'
'Yep.'
'With a Blu-Ray player?'
'I think so. DVD at least.'
'Sweet.'
'Tomorrow night you're going to be the guest of honor at Creeping Hemlock, a Goth club. You can dance, right?'
'I can twitch and spasm.'
'Good enough.'
'Is it safe for me to be doing public appearances like this? I hate to quit going back to the 'I got shot' thing, but…'
'Believe me, there'll be plenty of security.' She smiled. 'And anyway, you're impervious to bullets, remember?'
'Hey, I was pervious to that last one! It may not have killed me but it hurt like hell!'
'You'll be fine. You're the Amazing Mr. Corpse!'
Stanley stood out in the desert, adoring the feel of the hot sun against his face. He hadn't realized how confined he'd felt inside the bunker until now. Climbing out of the trap door, leaping into a limo, and driving a few blocks wasn't making him any less stir crazy. Though a little breeze would've been nice, he'd be satisfied with the fresh air.
He inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled. Sure, no oxygen was being delivered, but it still felt good. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and just let nature work its magic.
'Warm weather kind of guy, huh?' Veronica asked.
Stanley didn't open his eyes. 'I spent weeks in a freezer. I've got a lot of catching up to do.'
They stood there for a while. Stanley smiled as an almost imperceptible breeze blew across his skin.
'We should have a picnic,' he said.
'I'll add that to the itinerary.'
He opened his eyes. 'I'm feeling good today. Not Snoopy Dance of Joy good, but pretty darn good. And not giddy or giggly, but, y'know, good. Well, maybe a little giggly.'
