A gruesome green zombie bumbles barefoot through the fetid swamp waters amongst forgotten tombs half sunken.
His mindless jabbering attracts a ghoulish gathering of cackling phantoms from their mucky slumber.
Their high-pitched ululations have half the frogs in the swamp giggling.
In low wet ground the dead do not reliably stay put. Louisiana built its cemeteries above ground for exactly this reason — the water table sits so high that a buried coffin can float, and after heavy flooding they have been known to surface and drift. Communities answered with brick tombs, stone vaults, and in some places straps and slabs to hold the boxes down. Every ghost story set in a swamp is working from a real problem that gravediggers spent two centuries trying to solve.
Every cartoon reached for the thing in the swamp, because the fluency was already there — and then took it back in the last ninety seconds.New shirts. Olde stories. First word on every sale.
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