"HERBERT'S CAFE"

Good evening BOILS AND GHOULS.  I was just coaching my SPORTS SCREAM for THE BIG SEVERED-FOOT-BALL GAME this SHRIEKEND!  They're all doing pretty good, so the game should be rather TOE-RRIFIC hee-hee-hee-hee-hee.  But while I finish up coaching them, take a gander at this SICKENING-STRATEGY I have in my SLAY-BOOK, I name...

It was dawn down in the backwoods of southern-Georgia, back in June of 1943.  An automobile came slowly up a road, driven by a a middle aged man.  He yawned and the crickets were still chirping mixed with the chirping of birds.  He spotted a coffee shop along the road with a sign in black capital-letters reading: "HERBERT'S CAFE" on it over the double-doors.  The middle aged man parked his car and headed into the place.  The cafe was empty and on a radio Jeepers Creepers played.  The middle aged man stretched yawning a second time and took a seat up, at the counter.  He dinged the bell on the counter and then an odd old man slowly moved out, from the back room.  "Morning, sir, what can I do for y'all?" he said to him, asking.  His eyes were in the shadows and unseen.  "Morning, sir, I have been drivin' all night and want to make it back home without wreckin'.  May I please get a cup of coffee?" he answered, wondering.  "Why, yes sir.  Welcome to my cafe here.  Name's Herbert.  Comin' right up!" the old man answered, introducing himself from behind the counter then went into the back room.  Herbert came back out with a coffee mug and a pot of coffee, pouring the guy some.  "Thank you sir" he spoke to Herbert and sipped it.  "Y'all are mighty welcome.  Folks used to come in here for coffee before the war started.  But now, buisness has slowed down to a crawl" Herbert explained to him as he drank.  "Well, I am mighty sorry about that Herbert sir" the middle aged man spoke to him.  He handed him a five dollar bill from his wallet.  "Here you keep the change" the guy spoke and finished his cup of coffee.  "Well, that's mighty generous of y'all sir.  Thank ya!" Herbert proclaimed in gratitude.  The guy took off then and drove up the road.

He drove a few miles and oddly ended up back at the cafe.  He parked and strolled back into the building.  "Howdy, Herbert, I seem to be lost or somethin' sir" the guy told him, seeing Herbert behind the counter.  "Howdy sir.  Y'all think you're lost eh?  Well, just come sit down over here and have yourself a free cup of coffee this time" Herbert invited him, with his eyes still hid within the shadows.  "Gee, thank ya" the middle aged man replied and took a seat at the counter once more.  "Maybe I drove around and ended up back here" he told Herbert, thinking.  "No worries sir.  Here's some more coffee" Herbert said, handing him a second cup of coffee.  The guy drank it and saw that Herbert's eyes were still hidden in the shadows of his cafe.  "Y'all forgot sir about what unfortunately happened to ya?" Herbert said, inquiring.  "What in tarnation happened, Herbert sir?" he asked, finishing his coffee.  "Y'all had a bad wreck and died sir.  I witnessed it four years ago.  I myself had died here.  This here coffee keeps us both lookin' alive mister!" Herbert revealed, informing him.  "That is right I reckon.  I remember now.  We're both zombies" the middle aged guy said, remembering.  The living-dead zombie of Herbert leaned forwards, bringing his eyes out of the shadows.  His eyes were without pupils, just dead white.  His wrinkly-skin was pale and dead white, dropping from his face.  Herbert's straight white hair on the sides of his zombified-head

    that was bald on top, seemed to blow eerily.  He gazed at the second living dead man as his dead flesh started peeling and cracking, as the zombie of Herbert stood in his red vest, brown pants and white collared-shirt.  The second zombie's skin turned gray and cracked, as he removed his straw-hat and placed it on the counter.  His curly hair was ratty and grey as he scratched his head and his eyes turned pupi less and solid-yellow.  The dead man had two worms crawl out of his decayed-mouth from in between his teeth that now turned a rotting-black.  The zombie sat in his red shirt, green suspenders and overalls, eerily cracking his gray-decaying neck, moving his head from side to side.

Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha, that ending was sure ROTTEN eh?  Ol' Herbert had to remind the second zombie about his GRAVE SITUATION!  He was ROT ON TIME for more of Herbert's special coffee hee-hee-hee-hee-hee.  Well, our SCREAM-TEAM won by making one final point according to THE GHOUL KEEPER!  We really went out on a LIMB with many SEVERED-HAND OFFS heh-heh-heh!