Sky Bar’s Zombie Food!
It was a dark and stormy night.
Actually, it was a clear and sunny afternoon. But it felt like night, thanks to a dark inner glow created in an ancient copy of Adobe Photoshop. And because ZOMBIES.
One of the zombies bore a striking resemblance to Michael Jackson. Too close to be a coincidence. Whether he was the real deal or a mere imitator, it stood to reason that a zombie who dressed like this would prefer to be called “Michael.”
Michael wasn’t your typical zombie. He thought differently. He ate brains, but he had one of his own, too. Michael knew that the key to zombie survival lied in peaceful coexistence with those delicious humans.
Their flesh was tasty, sure. But they had guns and tanks. Ultimately, they’d never lose the war.
“No,” Michael thought. “I must become friends with the humans.” He knew it was a long shot, and even by his own admission, “friends” just meant that he wouldn’t try to bite them. He hoped, in return, that the humans would shy away from blowing his head off.
Of course, zombies have to eat something. Attacking humans was never an act of malice. They were just trying to survive. If his plan had any chance of success, he’d need to find substitute sustenance.
“Substitute sustenance,” Michael said, repeating his thoughts aloud. “A pleasant-sounding phrase. I’ll use it in the press release.”
Not long after that, Michael stumbled upon a bright package of Sky Bar’s “Zombie Food.”
A solution to his problems? Hell, maybe this was the solution to all zombies’ problems.
Michael didn’t know much about Sky Bar, but their intentions weren’t the issue. The important thing was was that they’d created Zombie Food. Milk chocolate filled with an oozy red caramel, said to be a zombie favorite.
Reading through the ingredients, Michael was delighted. Not one piece of human meat! In fact, nothing made from humans at all. Just sugar, cocoa butter and partially hydrated soybean oil. Those things couldn’t have come from humans. If that were true, they would’ve tasted better.
Selling the other zombies on such a radical change would be tough, but Michael soon found a follower.
As a human, Kate was a successful real estate broker. As a zombie, Kate eats people and smells like rancid turkey. She too realized that change wasn’t just needed, but inevitable. If they could help steer the zombie ship down the right path, then maybe all of this wouldn’t end with the humans trapping every zombie in a giant pit.
A giant pit filled with snakes and fire. Kate had nightmares about it all the time.
“The candy. It’s shaped like body parts. The humans won’t like that. We will seem flippant.”
Michael conceded that this was true, but getting the other zombies to switch from humans to chocolate was going to be enough of a hard sell.
“Our friends are far more likely to eat chocolate if it looks like like feet. The humans are smart. They will understand.”
When Michael broke one of the candies open – heart-shaped, if he had it right – he grew ecstatic.
“Kate! The caramel filling looks just like blood! The guys will love this!”
Hey, if the other zombies had any taste, Michael was right. This was great stuff. Though blood red, it tasted just like normal caramel. Like that tiny layer near the top of a Snickers bar.
“My God! There’s a heart, a brain, feet…this is fantastic!” Michael was always uncharacteristically enthusiastic for a zombie, by Sky Bar’s latest really brought the human out of him. It was a poetic, beautiful moment. A zombie finding his way in the world, through heart-shaped chocolate.
“Michael! It’s red like blood but sticky like guts!” Zombie inflections are notoriously muted, but Kate seemed to take this as a plus.
After eating enough chocolate to kill ten humans – a notion they both found ironic – Michael and Kate grabbed the remaining candy and set out to convert their zombie friends. Were they successful? Well, that depends. If you’re able to read this, they probab
