Would You Like Brains With That?

"Would you like brains with that?" moaned the speaker at the drive-thru. I was trying to decide between the fried fingers and the bbqued toes, but Harriet blurted out, "Yes, with extra cranial fluid."

"Aw, man, why'd you have to go and do that?" whined Pallid Paul from the trunk, "You always spill. And who gets to lick it up?"

I shushed them.

"That'll be thirteen seventy two at the first window."

I started to pull the car forward, when I saw the window lady pack some kidneys in my bag. I hadn't ordered kidneys! Immediately, I got out of the vehicle and stuck my head in the drive-thru window, until half my torso was inside. I was momentarily distracted by the yummy smell of the beer-battered spleens - oh, wow, I love that-

"Ma'am, you can't be doing that; didn't you see the sign? It says 'No Organ Donors Allowed.' We don't have the tools to dissect or bisect at this location."

Reaching one hand over to nip a golden, crispy spleen, I used the other to distract her. Her manager came back too soon, though, and reached for the telephone. I scrabbled for leverage to get farther inside.

"Hello, I need the zombie control unit," she began, but I was still alive! Or at least I though I was. I mean, I love eating brains! Man, what can I say? So juicy. So succulent. Wait! Oh no. It can't be. They're right! I put my hand down on the grill and saw the smoke rise from my fingers. Oh, the humiliation! To find out you're a zombie from your local 'Bits 'n Pieces' minimum wage joe was the lowest you could go. I cried : "Ah Caramba!" And then it hit me - it wasn't so bad, this meant - I withdrew back into the car with a gleam in my eye. Now I wouldn't need to pay for my next meal. "Harriet, hold still..."