What's for Dinner‪?‬

"Do you, Benjamin, promise to share with Vivian the brains you both may harvest from this night forward, so long as you both shall not find eternal rest?"
"Do!" Benjamin nodded and nodded.
"And do you, Vivian, promise to honor Benjamin's selection of brains brought to you and not put them to disdainful waste and, always, wait until he has eaten first before you partake of the leftovers?"
"Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep!" Vivian chortled. She actually preferred the little-more-dead taste of leftover brains, anyway. Sometimes she seasoned them with her own tenderizing maggots to enrich the flavor.
The preacher's nose separated and dangled by a thin sliver of gray skin, rocking to and fro like the pendulum of Vivian's grandmother's clock. "Before I pronounce Benjamin and Vivian husband and wife, does any among you have reason these two should not be joined in holy matrimony? Speak now or forever keep your tongue in its place."
A single deep cord blared throughout the church. Vivian's sister, Gloria, staggered to the organ, lifted the head that had fallen on the keys and pushed it back down over the spine of their grandmother's neck.
A small zombie boy rose from his seat in the middle of the middle row. "I object," he shouted. "She can't marry him 'cause she's still married to my father."