"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents--except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
--Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)
It was a dark and stormy night, filling the zombie's heart with glee, which even though, as everyone knows, zombies don't have hearts, or at least hearts which don't work in their assigned function of enriching the cells of our bodies, the space in the zombie's chest which once had housed a heart, had been an open pit of hunger and despair. Zombies are night owls and they don't beat around the bush when the sun does down.
The endless rain continued. And continued. As the moon rose, but the endless rain held back the romantic rays of the moonlight. The zombie continued with its mission, filled with glee but also thankful for the freezing temperature, the bite of the cold as sharp as a knife. It did not wish to putrefy any further until its mission was complete.
"Who's there?" Another dark form stood awkwardly by a sodden wall, The zombie floated by. In another life, it would have pounced on the human and would have done what zombies do to humans.
The zombie merged with the shadows. "If you don't come out, I'll shoot."
The zombie laughed and all the dogs in the neighborhood howled in response. "There's nothing you can do to me."
"That's good," the voice said. "I only have a banana for a gun."
Now the zombie shivered with fear, but laughed again to hide its despair. Bananas were good for humans, but were poisonous to zombies. He could just make out the form of the holder of the banana – smallish for a human, and bent-over in an odd posture.
The zombie said, "Just watch out. I'm a zombie, and you know what zombies do to humans."
"Oh, yeah," said the form. "Well, have I got news for you. I'm an aardvark, so how do you like those pickles." The aardvark threw the banana at the zombie, who fled, screamingly away but was not nimble enough on its feet. The banana hit the zombie's back, the potassium reacting with its flesh. For a moment, the dark of the underworld was lit with a flare that make all the shadow creatures run for cover.
The aardvark walked over to the smear decorating the sidewalk. "There goes a good banana," it mused. "I hope this zombie is really dead this time." He pulled out a cell phone, disguised as an apple and pressed a few wormholes. "I suppose we'll have to get an electroencephalogram just to be sure."
Another form trotted up to the aardvark. "Hey, Boss, waddhaya think the zombie was after?"
Fluffy the cat could be so dense, thought the aardvark. "I suspect the jewelry in the castle. That's what they're always after. Not very imaginative."
"You don't think this one's a decoy." The aardvark had not idea what Fluffy was getting at and wished that he would just go back to sleep.
"Decoy." The aardvark said slowly.
"Meow. You know, maybe the real thief is at the castle right now."
"That's why we should be going there right now, you idiot. What are you waiting for?"
Fluffy sighed and lay down so the aardvark could climb on his back. Fluffy ran like lightening.
They did not glance back at the zombie. Once the dark had descended again and the sounds of silence echoed loudly in the alley, the zombies fingers started to move. They dragged themselves away from the rotting arms, looked at each other, reached out with the pinky fingers to give a hi-five then scurried off after the aardvark and Fluffy.
It would be a long and rainy night, but at the end the forces of good would prevail. And the aardvark would find a name.