|“It’s alive—or at least it’s twitching a lot! |
That’s good enough for, like, a B-plus!”
If the venerable Victor Frankenstein were alive today—and also real, instead of a figment of Mary Shelley’s imagination—he would be pleased to learn that human society has come one step closer to recreating the most spine-tingling and exciting of his many crimes against nature: the reanimation of dead tissue.
|Gotham is lucky the Joker |
didn’t realize that zombies are
even cheaper than gasoline.
No, this latest offense against God has come from a far more mundane and surprising source—an acolyte of the culinary arts. A cook. A chef. We may never know this chef’s name, or what dark moment of his (or her) twisted, hellish life pumped her (or his) giant floppy hat so full of amoral, destructive hubris, but when the surface of the Earth is teeming with the living dead, we’ll certainly curse that unknown name for all we’re worth with our dying breaths.
Perhaps more shocking to the poor fictitious Dr. Frankenstein (who was, incidentally, no doctor at all, but a college dropout) is how this mysterious chef has been creating these profane proto-zombies. Eschewing the time-honored and traditional methods of harnessed German lightning, the Umbrella Corporation’s T-virus, voodoo, an alien asteroid hovering above the South Pole, the Necronomicon Ex Mortis, or even rage-infested monkeys, this master chef/madman has been dragging the dead back from beyond the grave using a far more commonplace and insidious ingredient:
|Zombie squid: approximately fifty times more terrifying than live squid.|
Yes, you read that right:
Soy sauce. For the love of God, SOY SAUCE.
The following video is not recommended for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or those who believe that squid deserve to live despite being both delicious and very, very ugly. Or, for that matter, those who live in fear of ordering a dinner that’s capable of making a quick getaway. If you do not count yourself among the above, please review the video below and realize that for today, all you’re watching is a relatively harmless, headless squid thrashing around on a bed of what appears to be caviar and possibly egg noodles, but someday—someday soon, perhaps sooner than you think—that soy-drenched living corpse lurching its way toward your boarded-up windows as you huddle in fear in the cellar, your ammunition nearly spent, may well be the moldering, shambling remains of somebody you once knew, thirsting for human brains. And you won’t be able to say you weren’t warned.
NOTEWe realize that Frankenstein’s monster, given its ability to think, reason, and know right from wrong, doesn’t fit the traditional definition of zombie. For our purposes here, though, it’s close enough.