Brant and Martin walked over to join them. 'Are you ready to go?' Brant asked.
'There went my gigglyness,' Stanley told Veronica. 'Yep, let's get this freak show on the road.' He tapped on the side of the limousine. 'I call shotgun.'
Brant was lost in some paperwork and thus wasn't being a complete prick. Martin read a comic book with a slug on the cover. The driver, John, had seemed like a nice enough guy but he'd prepared a playlist of zombie- related music that got old pretty quick. Veronica wrote in a notebook. Stanley watched Veronica.
He was developing a serious crush on her, one that went beyond simple thoughts regarding the quality of her buttocks. She wasn't just gorgeous; she was intelligent, funny, and both able and willing to put Stanley in his place. If he'd had somebody like her in his life before, he would never have ended up living in a trailer park crying into a crusty pillow on a daily basis.
Too bad he was a monster.
She seemed like somebody who could get past the whole 'physically repulsive' element, but still, he knew that he'd never dare to make a move. Shameless flirting and crude comments were fine. A genuine admission of his feelings was not. He couldn't put her in the position of having to admit that dating a corpse wasn't really her thing. That would be more than a little socially awkward.
Veronica probably had a boyfriend. Maybe even a husband. She didn't like to talk about her personal life. Hell, for all he knew, she kept a harem in her basement.
Beauty and the Beast.
Hottie and the Zombie.
Never gonna happen.
'What?' Veronica asked as she noticed that he was staring at her.
'Booger.'
She wiped at her nose. 'Did I get it?'
'No, now it's crawling on your cheek.'
'You need a hobby.'
'I have a hobby. I just need a better one.'
Veronica tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and handed it to him, along with a pen. 'I want you to write down the names of all fifty states and their capitals by the time we reach Santa Fe. That's about two hours. No asking for help.'
'Will you flash me if I get them all?'
'Yes.'
'Seriously?'
'Yes. If you get all fifty states and their capitals without asking for help by the time we get to Santa Fe, I will flash you for three seconds.'
'Wow, let out your inner floozy! You've got a deal.'
'Slow down the limo!' Stanley cried. 'I'm almost there! Park at that Dairy Queen or something!'
'How many states do you have?' asked Martin.
'Forty-nine. I think I'm missing one of the states with East or West in the name!'
'Let me see,' said Veronica, taking the paper from him. 'East Mississippi is not a state.'
'I thought that sounded wrong.'
'You don't even have New Mexico on here. We're in New Mexico.'
'New Mexico! Thanks!' Stanley grabbed the paper and hurriedly wrote down the state. 'Why is this limo going so fast? Isn't there a speed limit in New Mexico?'
'Give it up, Stanley,' said Veronica. 'You only have twelve capitals on there.'
'I have fifteen.'
'No, three of them are wrong.'
'Really? Which ones?'
'Anchorage, Miami, and Vermont City.'
'Damn. So I get a one second flash instead, right?'
'No.'
'A one second flash of one breast?'
'You get nothing. But I got two hours of relative peace. It's a win-win situation for me.'
'You're a tease.'
'And your U.S. geography skills are pathetic. We're going to have to work on that if you're going to be speaking to our nation's youth.'
Stanley crumpled up the paper. 'I challenge you to a rematch. Name the Three Stooges.'
'No time for that,' said Brant. 'It's time to meet up with the Mr. Corpse Cavalcade.'
'Oh my God,' said Stanley as they turned the corner, so astounded that he couldn't even think of a sarcastic remark, let alone deliver one.
Both sides of the street were jam-packed with people as if it were a parade at Disneyland. Cheering people with balloons and confetti. A huge banner stretched out over the street read 'SANTA FE WELCOMES MR.
CORPSE.'
'All these people are here for me?' Stanley asked.
Brant nodded. 'Miles of them.'
'I thought I was supposed to be a freak.'
'No, you're a celebrity,' said Veronica. 'Now stand up and make thousands of people happy.'
Stanley was almost too dazed to get to his feet. This was incredible. He was a zombie, for God's sake!
He stood up through the small section of open roof and waved at the crowd. Their cheers intensified a hundredfold.
They'd gone over the security precautions beforehand. Supposedly lots of highly trained individuals were monitoring the crowd very closely, and at the first sign of trouble Stanley would be given the signal to duck back down into the limousine. Stanley had personal safety concerns, but still, he had to trust that Project Second Chance would do everything it could to protect its investment, and he sure as hell didn't want to spend the rest of his life underground.
The limo moved slowly down the street, flanked on all four sides by police cars with their lights flashing. Stanley waved, blew kisses, and hoped that his smile wasn't too creepy.
Some college-age girls were holding a banner that read 'WE LOVE
YOU MR. CORPSE!'
'I love you, too!' he shouted back.
He gave a thumbs-up sign to a crowd of children. Why hadn't they brought candy along to throw out? He'd have to rectify that at the next parade.
Another sign: 'MR. CORPSE IS AMAZING!'
