Toto was having the best dream of her life (featuring an enormous pepperoni pizza, a bucket of cheesy pasta and, to finish, her furry face buried in a massive tiramisu), when she found herself rudely transported back to a cold London night.
CRASH, BANG and, while we’re at it, WALLOP doesn’t even come close to the terrible noise that disturbed the silence on the otherwise sleepy street. It was the kind of night where you and I would be tucked up in bed with an extra blanket and a hot-water bottle.
“After all, what had he really seen? Just a pale, smelly, dirty person wearing a squashed hat. With some flies and bugs on him. And yeah, he’d acted a little unusual, but it was a pretty big lap from there to Night of the Living Dead.”
Even before he saw the dead guy, Spaulding Meriwether was in a bad mood. His feet were wet, his hands were freezing, and he was all alone in the middle of a dark, foggy forest.
Worse of all, he was feeling like an idiot. He knew what he was getting into when he came out here. He’d heard kids at school saying there was some strange stuff going on in the woods outside town, stuff that sounded to him like it could be part of some kind of creepy secret ritual. So what did he do when he heard all this? Stay far away, like any sensible person? Oh no, not S.S. Meriwether – he had to go investigate.