Sweet Peanut
Chapter 1: Off to a Rocky Start

"I do not like that little peanut man."

"Aw, c'mon Nick, Lil' Peanut is awesome!" Ellis walked up to the flimsy wooden stand and put his arm around...well, Lil' Peanut didn't have shoulders, exactly, but that sure as hell didn't stop Ellis from getting his arm around the peanut creature like it was his best friend in the world. Ellis beamed, as if hanging out with an oversized peanut in a baseball cap and overalls was, in fact, awesome, not just stupid beyond all reason. "See?"

Nick didn't see. Okay, he did understand why Ellis would like it, the two shared the same fashion sense and it was clear to Nick that Ellis had suffered some horrific childhood trauma that made him incapable of accepting dumb shit as dumb shit. But for any rational human being, Lil' Peanut was just a creepy carnival mascot whose black hole of a smile and bulging joy-filled eyes were begging to be punched.

Nick, never one to refuse an invitation, happily obliged. His fist connected with Lil' Peanut's face with a satisfying crunch, balsa wood flying everywhere. Ellis gaped at Nick in abject horror.

"Why would ya do something like that?"

"He was asking for it," Nick said, nonchalantly crushing the peanut's severed head under his dress shoes.

"Man, you are one cold-hearted sonofabitch," Ellis said, shaking his head. "All he wanted to do was make sure you was tall enough for the ride! It's like, you ain't got no soul or somethin'."

Nick rolled his eyes. He was fed up with the other survivors complaining about his "negative attitude." They were smack in the middle of a freaking zombie apocalypse, and no amount of looking on the bright side or stopping to smell the roses would change that. In fact, doing either of those things would probably get them all killed. Given that everyone else insisted on acting like kids on a field trip – making crappy, ass-fattening carnie food, playing gallery games to win an utterly useless garden gnome, or riding kiddie cars in a circle for ten minutes straight – Nick considered it his duty to rain on their parade (or in this case, carnival) if only to keep them from getting ripped to shreds by zombie clowns.

Ellis knelt down and began to pick up the remnants of Lil' Peanut. After a few moments, Nick realized Ellis meant to piece the thing together again, like it was freaking Humpty-Dumpty. He turned away in disgust.

"If one of those super-mutated zombie fuckers grab you, I'm not saving you."

Ellis didn't even look up from his Lil' Peanut rescue. "Yeah whatever, we wouldn't have this problem if you weren't such a jackass about...." Ellis paused. "...well, everything."

This being an outrageously stupid statement, even for Ellis, Nick felt no need to reply. He scanned the Kiddieland park for Rochelle and Coach, wondering what they'd gotten up to. Hopefully something useful, like killing goddamn zombies.

They were doing no such thing. Rochelle and Coach stood in front of one of the cotton candy stalls, gazing at the machine inside with a frightening intensity.

"You know, I sometimes made cotton candy for the school fair," Coach said thoughtfully, licking his lips. "I used these kinda machines before. Don't make too much noise, from what I remember."

"It's been a long time since I had cotton candy." Rochelle looked at the colorful, sun-faded photographs depicting happy families waving around clouds of the sugary treat with unabashed longing. She shifted the gnome – the goddamn gnome they'd won from that goddamn shooting gallery game Ellis had insisted they play – from one arm to the other. Nick couldn't believe she was still lugging it around. "Does sugar go bad?"

Nick decided that now would be a good time to loudly reload his assault rifle, just to remind the two of what the fuck was going on. "Doesn't matter – we need to get moving." When Rochelle turned to look at him, a pleading look on her face, Nick felt the need to add: "Cotton candy's just going to make you fat. And that gnome? Fugly as hell."

"Damn, those zombies kill your inner child or something?" Rochelle snapped. She pulled the gnome closer to her and brushed off a spot of blood and gristle from its shiny red hat – was she beating the zombies with that thing? God, was he the only sane one left?

"Don't let him bother you, Ro," Coach said, looking at Nick through narrowed, judgmental eyes. "Some people, they just born full 'a piss and vinegar."

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe you people," Nick growled, turning sharply on his heel and heading for the Kiddieland exit. They were probably going to die horribly no matter what they did, but Nick was not going to bite it while waiting for a batch of cotton candy.

"And we can't believe you, Nick," Coach said sagely. "We can't believe you."

"Yeah!" Ellis chimed in. He'd apparently given up the ghost of Lil' Peanut. "Did y'all know he just beat the stuffing out of Lil' Peanut? For no reason 't'all!"

"You mean that cute little mascot?" Rochelle frowned. "Aw, that is pretty mean."

Nick ground his teeth. "I hope the zombies eat you. All of you."

He stormed off. The other survivors gave each other long-suffering looks.

"Man, you'd think with a zombie apocalypse happenin', a man would loosen up a little, have some fun," Ellis said. "But he goes and kills Lil' Peanut!"

"Don't worry about it, son." Coach gave Ellis a sympathetic pat on the back. "That's on his head, not yours."

"Well, I guess we better get going," Rochelle said, giving the cotton candy stand one last, hungry look. The others nodded, and they headed towards the evacuation center.