Prologue: the Joke That Never Landed
Outside the crumbling gates of Hallowhaven, two young girls sat perched on a low, moss-covered wall, their laughter echoing through the evening air. Lilac, with her wild purple hair and a mischievous grin, nudged her friend Autumn, who was ever changing name as the name suggested and a spark of humor always danced behind her amber eyes. They had spent countless afternoons telling jokes and stories, their friendship a perfect balance of lightheartedness and thoughtful reflection.
On this particular evening, they had a new challenge: a zombie teenager.
The creature stood before them, its head tilted slightly to one side, its dull, decayed eyes blinking slowly in confusion. It was the newest addition to the odd assortment of undead that roamed around Hallowhaven, a town roamed by its post-mortal coil inhabitants. Unlike most zombies, this one wasn’t a mindless reanimated corpse—it was young, fresh from the grave, and *apparently* still in its awkward teenage phase, though its understanding of the world was a bit… lacking.
"Alright, Autumn," Lilac said, nudging her friend with a grin, "let’s try again. We’ll tell this one a joke, see if it gets it."
Autumn raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You think the zombie will get it? Are you sure this is a good idea?"
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Lilac’s purple hair fluttered in the breeze as she leaned forward, full of confidence. "Trust me, Autumn. Zombies may be dead, but I’ve got a feeling this one is just *misunderstood*."
He let out a low groan, swaying slightly on its feet, seemingly waiting for them to do something. The two girls exchanged a glance, both silently agreeing it was time for their comedic test.
"Okay, here goes." Lilac cleared her throat dramatically and turned to the zombie. “Why don’t skeletons fight each other?”
The zombie teenager glared, its unblinking eyes staring blankly at Lilac, its head tilting further to the side as if trying to process. It didn’t move, didn’t laugh, didn’t even show any signs of recognition. Just silence.
Lilac, undeterred, pressed on. “Because they don’t have the guts!”
There was a pause. The zombie teenager blinked again, slowly, as if it were trying to grasp the concept. It opened its mouth. Not to laugh. It opened its mouth to say something, but instead let out an unintelligible grunt, its voice a deep, confused growl that made Lilac and Autumn exchange bewildered glances.
Autumn sighed, shaking her head. "Maybe we need to simplify it a bit more."
She turned to the zombie and waved her arms dramatically. “Okay, let’s try a classic then. A universal joke! How about—what did the one wall say to the other wall?”
The zombie stared back, still confused, the faintest hint of rotting skin twitching in anticipation of whatever *this* would be.
“I’ll meet you at the corner!” Lilac shouted, pointing to the horizon.
There was a long moment of pure silence. Then, he took a step back and slowly raised one of its arms, as if unsure of what to do next. It looked from Lilac to Autumn and back again, groaning slightly. And then, as if deciding it had done enough, it turned and staggered off toward the distant woods, dragging its feet like it had had enough of this peculiar *living* entertainment.
Lilac stood there, blinking in disbelief. “I… I think that went well?”
Autumn, ever the philosopher, simply shook her head. “Perhaps, Lilac, humor is a more complex thing than we realize. It seems the zombie teenager is… just not quite there yet. He might need a few more centuries to catch up.”
Lilac sighed dramatically. “Maybe I need to work on my delivery. No one can ever appreciate a good wall joke around here.”
“Maybe you should tell jokes that are more dead pan,” Autumn quipped.
Lilac’s face brightened as she turned to her friend. “Ah, *now* you’re getting it!”
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, the two girls continued their attempts to amuse each other, knowing full well that even if their zombie audience didn’t laugh, they could always count on each other to keep the jokes—and the friendship—alive.