Smells of decay waft through the darkened theater,
Mingling with fresh buttered popcorn.
Munch, crunch, chew -
The popping and grinding noises mask the screams
Coming from the screen.
They pretend the popcorn is brains,
And it almost works.
Between bites, the zombies laugh.
Marquee reads Night of the Living Dead,
Same show every night,
Zombies wait in line, packed inside like smelly sardines.
Smellier sardines, anyway.
Undead moans mingle with laughter,
They watch with interest,
Noting technique from the big undead stars.
Again, laughter as the humans succumb
To the shuffling creatures.
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