Sir Cadaver, foremost expert on and greatest collector of haunted paintings, was disgusted. "Blasted fleshbags! Where do they get off stealing my pride and joy?! I'll wreck them up but good for that!"
He sent a couple of his goons to a quiet little house in Lower Suburbia. "Let us in!" They wheezed, banging on the door.
"Hello. You will have to excuse the owners of this house but they are busy cowering for their lives. If you would be so good as to answer a few thousand questions I would be delighted to let you in."
"Durr, this is already boring. Also, we're at the wrong house."
Sir Cadaver, from his estate in gloomy Viletown, grumbled at their incompetence. "Bah! Chaotica! You know what to do."
"Yeah, yeah." The elderly zombie muttered, appearing at the correct house and causing every tap in the house to blow and sickening mold to grow within. "A millennia of faithful service and for what? I'm still waiting for that trip to San Fransisco you promised me."
"Bah!"
The shambling essence of chaos poured snow onto the ground and summoned zombies to dance around the house while the terrified Dell family stared mutely at the haunted portrait. Once stately and elegant, it now gleamed with an unsightly lustre and smelled faintly of rotten fish.
"What have we done?" They gasped.
At that moment, the door flew open and Chaotica swept in to take the painting. She returned it to her master and all was calm once again.
Save for one zombie that looked at Reilly Dell's abs and was blinded by their beauty. To this day, it wanders around, reaching for that impossible ideal.
The End
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