The Wabbit went to the shed the next day to check it out. He'd established that there was nothing untoward and moved further down the street when he heard scuffling behind him. He turned and there they were. Zombies. "I knew it!" he murmured. There was a badly dressed one, another who he could only describe as medium - and a young woman who he knew Lapinette would describe as tarty. They stood stock still. Then one moved its arms as if it was a signal for them all to move. Then they waved in ghastly synchrony. The Wabbit couldn't help moving back. It was then that something touched his ears. "Yeuch!" he yelled and brushed whatever it was away. He squinted upwards. It was a hideous skeletal figure with protruding bones. "Get off," he shouted. It was a hand that belonged to an arm that swayed for an instant before falling to the street. The Wabbit stepped back again. The zombies stepped forward. He stepped toward them. They stepped back. The Wabbit started thinking. They looked like they'd escaped from a film. Especially the one in the awful shirt. "How do you boo!" greeted the Wabbit. "Shopping, must do shopping!" they replied. The Wabbit pointed further down the street. "Furniture, kitchen and fittings," he said. He glanced at the roughly dressed one. "Men's outfitters and bags in great quantity." "Bags, get bags," said the Zombies. The skeletal figure replaced his arm and they stumbled past the Wabbit in the general direction of IKEA. "It's not even Black Friday," murmured the Wabbit.
