June 2010 — Flea Market Zombies

Five minutes to go. I pick up the cup of black coffee I’d prepared myself and feel my eyes drift to the poster over the little work area I’d claimed as my own. “A DREAM RIDE WITH CHRIS!” bubbly, over-sized yellow letters scream against a purple background. “ONE DAY ONLY! TAKE A TRIP WITH THE FRIEND YOU KNOW AND LOVE!” Chris the Choo-Choo’s painted eyes twinkle, caught by sunshine in a moment of photographic brilliance. His grin is big, salesman-esque. All teeth. Does anyone else ever notice just how long those teeth were? Probably not. Then again, I’ve known Chris for far, far longer than most.

The day is perfect, the bait laid, and the squeals, giggles and cries outside my little shack tell me the trap is sprung. The metaphysical pendulum hangs over their babbling heads… Master will be pleased.

Show time. My hands tremble as they draw my stove-pipe hat over my ears, and my fingers quake in anticipation while they snap the buttons together on my cover-alls. Years of preparation, and it is so close. I fish a bit of petroleum jelly from the jar on my desk and slime the gunk into my mouth, onto my teeth. I grin wide and hard. A certain image must be maintained, at least for a while; gotta smile for the brats.

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