I hate when a piece of skin gets caught in my throat! What was I doing? Writing about Doghouse, right. This film came out a few years ago, back when I still breathed. (Really don’t want to go into those days…) Doghouse is focused on a group of guys looking to have a weekend away from the soul-sucking harpies they are dating, divorcing, or married to. I’m not being harsh; these chicks devour men’s spirits like I devour spleens.
The guys take off in a minibus in search of a small village where they hope to do manly things like drink, smoke, and golf. Not bad for a boy’s weekend, honestly. But none of them thought to call ahead and make sure the place hadn’t been taken over by a group of women, ones with an intense craving for male flesh. Whoops! Egg on their face.
You know, I almost miss eating eggs… Sorry. Skipped lunch, he was too fast.
Very quickly the band of macho men realize the village isn’t quite right. Matter of fact, there’s not a soul to be seen when they arrive. Intelligent people might have gotten back on the bus to find another place to party in, but not our group of unlikely heroes. They want to see this thing through to (their) end.
The first of the infected females we meet is a gorgeous blonde in a wedding dress. Too bad she’s married, I say. She’s quite a looker. As a matter of fact, most of the women in the village hold a certain appeal for me. Can’t put my finger on the reason why, though.
Watching the initial attack sequence (and all of the ones after) gave me the munchies. That alone is testament to the detail used in the gore, I’ll tell you. And, oh look. There is a man in fatigues pinned like a butterfly to a fence. Didn’t the folks at the Zombie Survival CrewTM warn about government involvement during the primary stages of the zombie outbreak? Glad no one listened to them.
The movie straddles the line between zombie flick and splat-stick and does it well. Zombies are depicted with intelligence, cunning, and just the right amount of puss. On the flipside, it was difficult to feel bad for some of the men trapped in the village given their total disregard for women. I mean, one resorted to rambling about necrophilia in order to cope with what happened to them. Even I was a little disturbed.
Overall, Doghouse is a very entertaining movie. Excellent performances from the core cast of men and the lead zombie-women. Next time I watch, I’ll be sure to have a snack handy. Preferably gagged so I don’t miss funny bits of dialog.
Eureka! I’ve done it, I’ve figured out where Ground Zero for the Zombiepocalypse will happen… and you won’t believe it when you find out.
Mother’s Day found your fearless commander braving the hordes in Disneyland for a bit of fun, excitement, and communing with like-minded souls during the Bat’s Day in the Fun Park event. It was also a covert scouting mission. See, I hoped with the security measures Disneyland takes that it would be the perfect place to use as a Safe Haven. There’s plenty of food on-hand to keep a small group of survivors fed for a pretty long time. Bathrooms galore. Plus enough space to keep the group from feeling trapped in an impossible situation.
But as I surveyed the crowds that chill Sunday evening, my plans vanished in a cloud of smoke.
First I encountered a gentleman wearing a shirt that said, “Have you seen my zombie?” Admittedly, the shirt got a laugh. (And I made him stop so I could take a picture to add to the scouting report… okay, maybe it was for my own personal amusement.) The blatant show of support for the undead made this commander slightly uneasy. Not only that, but I’d blown my cover by snapping the picture. Thankfully I didn’t spot any UGA agents creeping around. That doesn’t mean they weren’t there, though.
As the evening progressed, I began to notice something strange about the people around me. It wasn’t that I found myself surrounded by a couple hundred Goths, oh no, not at all. The “normal” folks had taken on strange behaviors and movements. Children screamed louder than usual and rammed their tiny bodies into their parent’s legs. Adults in the park seemed listless, short-tempered, and walked in jerky steps. Everyone devoured greasy snack foods by the fist full, their appetites insatiable. Language skills seemed to be forgotten almost entirely at some point, replaced by a series of angry snarls and muttering. The happy-go-lucky patrons in the park were changing into something, something too horrific to truly comprehend. Unfortunately as a commander with the ZSC, I felt obligated to watch and document the rapid decline in human behavior.
By 9:00 pm the crowds inside Disneyland began to gather together in large packs. The largest, with approximately 1500 bodies crammed together, stood in Main Street USA staring blankly at Sleeping Beauty’s castle as the colored lights changed. They were transfixed and it reminded me of the “sky flowers” from Land of the Dead, something so simple that distracted the zombies so completely.
That’s when it dawned on me. The “magic” within the Magic Kingdom isn’t derived from fairies, happiness, and dreams brought to life. Oh no. Disneyland utilizes necromancy to turn perfectly healthy, joyful people into an army of zombies to do their bidding. I gotta give it to them, the idea is brilliant.
Brilliant and scary as all get-out.
My plans to use the park as a Safe Haven were dashed. The fences I hoped to utilize in order to ensure the survival of the human race took on a more menacing implication. Would they hold and keep the newly made zombies locked inside or would Anaheim fall victim to the first wave of attack? I can’t be certain.
After making my ghastly discovery, I used every ounce of skill in my arsenal to escape Disneyland undetected. The effects of long-term exposure to powerful magic made my thought processes slow. I staggered down the street towards the secure spot where I’d left my car. For a few tense moments it felt as though I’d fall on the next person I saw and rip their throat out. Luckily no one passed by and when I reached the car some of the more adverse effects of the magic began to fade.
Consider this your only warning, ZSC faithful. If you insist on visiting, pack accordingly. Charms to ward off evil should keep you safe. Just to be sure, bring along a vial of salt as well. One can never be too safe when it comes to dark magics.
As a safety precaution, I’d advise steering clear of any and all theme parks after the first zombie sightings have been reported. It is in my humble opinion that these places are indeed ground zero for the Zombiepocalypse. Who’d have known!?
As I was sitting in the Phoenix bus terminal during my trip to Dallas Comic Con, I began to realize something was… off.
My trip began right on the heels of the CDC releasing their Zombie Apocalypse survival guide on their blog. Little did I know exactly how influential this thing would be. Every single TV I passed from my home base to Dallas covered the CDC’s guide. People on the bus, once they saw my zombie-centric handbag, began grilling me about it. And after I told them about the ZSC? Forget about it. I spent nearly 2 days solid neck deep in zombie talk.
About 12 hours into the trip, I began to observe my traveling companions. It was a huge risk exposing myself as a commander with the Zombie Survival Crew in a situation where I could not escape anyone that turned on me. There were some folks that made me wish I had my sword on the bus. They shuffled around with no apparent destination. Their eyes were glassy, blank. No one home in there. And, ugh, they reeked. I’ve been lucky enough to never catch a whiff of the unholy B.O. of a walker, but I’m sure this had to be it.
So there I was, sitting in a bus terminal waiting while the bus gassed up… surrounded by potential zombies.
The thought forced me to take in our surroundings. How secure is a bus terminal? About as secure as a cereal box. There are more doors and windows in a typical station than solid walls. Survivors would eat up all their wood resources covering access points, leaving nothing to burn on cold nights or to cook with. On top of that, they layout itself is far too open. If a firefight were to break out, I’d have a deli counter or one of three concrete pillars to hide behind. Food supplies are laughable. Sure, most stations have a restaurant, but its all frozen food stuffs. Once the power goes out, that food will not last long. Nor will it tide over the size of crowd that could be trapped inside.
And gods forbid if the Zombiepocalypse should happen while we’re on the road. We’d become a veritable moveable feast! There is no storage for food. Space on a bus is non-existent, almost laughable. Sure, the bus can outrun a horde of zombies looking for a midnight snack, but eventually it’d run out of gas. A Greyhound bus isn’t exactly Dead Reckoning (Land of the Dead 2005). Once it is out of gas, the one secure element is gone and zombies have a huge can of human sardines to dig into.
Sleep deprivation is a huge problem associated with traveling by bus. At one point I was so out of it I swear I saw a demon crawl out of a box strapped on the back of a semi-truck and into the cab to attack the driver. A hallucination like that, even in someone like myself that is highly trained to handle the unknown, is really dangerous. The lack of sleep also made me really chatty.
Wait a minute…
It wasn’t until after I’d missed one night of sleep that people started to get awfully chatty with me on the bus. Some of the passengers got on at my home base. Those were the very same to begin questioning me about why I was on a mission to Dallas, TX. The connection never made sense until now. My travel itinerary was compromised, information had to of been given to our enemies.
Very early Sunday morning we had to say goodbye to head Vato, Neil Brown Jr, who had to high-tail it back to Hollywood for- ::muffled sentence::
What the heck Juliette!? I wasn’t going to actually tell them that he had to go to a meeting for- ::more muffled words::
Okay, okay! I’ll stop trying to say something I shouldn’t. Just put the friggen crossbow away. (By the way, she really does travel with a crossbow.) Anyways… we said our goodbyes to Neil, before going to bed REALLY early Sunday. Which was a good thing because both Juliette and myself managed to sleep through both of our alarms. How does one sleep through Judas Priest? Pure and utter exhaustion, my friends.
Neil –who left an adorable note under the door because that’s just how he rolls –later reported suffering giggle fits as he heard our alarms going off repeatedly while he prepared to leave.
When we did wake, Juliette stumbled downstairs for coffee and was promptly kidnapped. I remained in the room to get ready. It takes a while. Hello? This look takes a lot of work to accomplish in a way that looks natural. I didn’t realize how long Juliette had been gone until I get a strange text “Don’t freak. Getting food.” It seems our own Anthony Guajardo and his parents abducted the boss for breakfast. My worries over the matter were instantly settled when she returned… with bacon. Bacon makes EVERYTHING better.
Looking more like zombies than zombie slayers, our crew headed over to the convention center for the last day of Dallas Comic Con. We used the energy from the staff to perk up some before the gates to another dimension were flung open. Er, I mean they let the fans in the doors. (What? There were a lot of them and it was my first Comic Con, I’m allowed to be afraid of the crowds, dangit!)
Sunday was slightly less manic crowd-wise, which was both good and bad. Sure, talking to all of those people is draining, but seeing the happiness on a fan’s face when they made it in the room and realized who was there (the Vatos!) was kinda cool. At the same time most of our merry little band were hardly able to string two words together by noon, so the less intense crowd was a bit of a blessing.
Juliette had a fan girl moment with Carrie Fisher and a shock from the Joker. James ended up taking a cat-nap on the floor. At one point, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle showed up with Jason Voorhees. We even got a visit from the Walking Dead TV Podcast crew –they were awesome as always (especially considering the boss lady was speaking near-gibberish by the time they showed up).
After all of the fans were out of the building, our own Anthony Guajardo was called on to do a quick interview for a local news station. James Gonzaba, who really looked like the undead by the end of the day, took off back home. We hope rest did him some good. Would hate to have to put our newest First Lieutenant down after his first convention!
Juliette and I bee-lined to the nearest Starbucks for much-needed caffeine. We then proceeded to scare other customers while sorting through the nearly 500 pictures taken over the weekend and cackling like the witches from Macbeth. The cackling continued during dinner, as well as many proclamations of, “We kicked some serious butt this weekend!”…or was that “We got our butts kicked this weekend?”
And we really did.
The opportunities we discovered this weekend for everyone were astounding. Not only did the fans respond to the Vatos, but they were eager to get to know the ZSC as well. I’d like to give a shout out to anyone that made it over to the site after Dallas Comic Con. Welcome to the Zombie Survival CrewTM. Grab your go bag and lets go kill some zombies!
Dallas Comic Con started with a bang. As soon as the doors opened, fans of The Walking Dead came pouring in. I threw my arms around Juliette and forced her to stow the crossbow beneath the table, and tossed a “stand down” glare at the boys. Yep, the Zombie Survival Crew was in kill, er, I mean meet-n-greet mode alright. Within a span of less than 20 seconds we couldn’t see the Vatos –Anthony Guajardo, Neil Brown Jr, and James Gonzaba –through the crowd. I released Juliette and that’s when it hit me.
It was hard to know how to react. (Shush, Juliette, running in circles saying “oh my gods” is a legitimate way to react to the situation!)
We dug in our heels and embraced the crowd. Well, and immediately eyed people we could tag for help, as much as they could. Huge, huge thanks to Veronica! Honestly, I have no clue how you managed to keep track of that system you set up. For all I knew you were doing it in hieroglyphics. (This may also be testament to how little sleep I’d had since Wednesday night. . .)
Lisa and Gilbert did wonderfully as ninja photographer and line wrangler, respectively. Seriously, we had to have a person to stand in food lines. They were THAT scary. Why didn’t anyone warn me of this? The rumbling in my tumbly was frightening!
Before I forget, we need to thank the DCC volunteers. Fred, you were a god with that velcro! James, we never went dry. You kept us very well watered. Rebekah, thank you for talking to keep me awake. Stephen and Craig, you rocked…and Tracy, we would not have survived without you!
Saturday had a lot of highlights, not the least of which was Neil leading us in a rather loud rendition of Day-O right after our lunch break. Everyone out in the hall stopped just outside our door and peered in like the bunch of us had lost our minds. . . which was true.
The crowds at DCC absolutely loved the Vatos. James, Neil, and Anthony were brilliant. They handled every twist and turn with a smile. Media folks came by to interview them and walked away astounded with how nice the Vatos are.
At the last minute Juliette got drafted into introducing The Walking Dead panel. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy watching her squirm when faced with the large crowd and the microphone. She got lucky and we think nobody but me saw her trip-step off the stage when she was done. Neil, Anthony and James fielded dozens of questions from the fans –Anthony was sweeter than sugar, James was articulate and Neil kept the crowd roaring with his antics. And, like Neil, we will repeat –we can neither confirm nor deny that the Vatos will be back for season 2 of The Walking Dead.
That night we all went out to dinner –after Juliette managed to have the strangest conversation ever with Thomas Jane as he took off his boots and socks in the hotel lobby. What? Yeah, you read that right. Let me tell you right now, it is impossible to eat with Neil and Anthony popping off jokes right and left. I almost had to call a time-out just to eat my salad without a tomato shooting out of my nose! (not quite the pickle mishap Juliette had in Jersey, but it was close.) Juliette had to get up and leave the table a couple of times. I’m thinking it was the really loud rendition of Rick Springfield’s Jesse’s Girl that first made her run…no, wait. She’s the one who started it. That, and Neil’s onion rings. Don’t ask.
And because we are a bunch of lunatics, after dinner we went back to the hotel and… worked some more. We tackled a few important missions for the ZSC. Before you ask, no we can’t tell you what just yet. Patience is key. You will find out in time and believe us it will be worth the wait! After missions were confirmed completed (including the successful attempt to bring James on board with the ZSC) everyone loaded into the elevator and went down stairs to the party. Only we were still working!
The guys had an interview with Nerd Heard podcast. We met Kenneth and Chubtoad (Richard) Friday night and right away they blew us away with how cool they were. That coolness passed on to their professionalism. We made quite a sight out by the pool, business-like while the interview was going on. It drew a few positive comments on everyone’s level of commitment to success. Yeah, your commanders kick backside and take names. All for you, ZSC faithful!
After the interview we all hung out at the hotel during an impromptu party. We, uhm, may have been the last ones to leave. Did your commanders pay the price for late night shenanigans? Just wait until you read about Sunday’s adventures.
After the bus ordeal, which I will explain better in a later post, I finally arrived in Dallas. Let me tell you this, no amount of warning from friends and family prepared me properly for the humidity blanketing Texas. The second I stepped out of the bus station, it felt like I’d been dunked in a bucket of warm water. So gross!
As I was musing over how to survive the humidity, this tiny blur shot across the sidewalk and tackled me. While I didn’t get the rib-crushing hug that some of the boys would receive, Juliette made a very firm first impression. (I swear, there were dents in my sides after!)
Our hellos were cut short by a demonic growl. Neither of us had eaten yet. (This would be the theme of our weekend.) We grabbed lunch and then went over to check out the convention center. The Irving Convention Center is brand-spankin’-new… and HUGE. The impression it made when first seeing it stuck. That was before we even made it inside and realized exactly how big it was. I should have asked for a map. (I might have gotten lost trying to find the bathroom one day…)
Very quickly Juliette and I realized the scope of what we were being asked to do. Tracy led us upstairs. She pointed to various doors, all of which bore the name of celebrities. Oh Holy Cow. This was far bigger than anticipated. We played it off cool, but once we left, we both kinda, maybe, sorta, ran around in circles and screamed just a little.
Anthony Guajardo and his parents, Lisa and Gilbert, arrived shortly after in the midst of a thunder storm. Too be honest, I’d never witnessed a storm like this. Texas impressed me with the light show up in the clouds. And scared the heck out of me with thunder that shook the hotel room. My nerves were settled when Anthony began to goof off, hitting poses from Nacho Libre and doing his two-second break dancing routine. We were laughing too hard to get clear pictures.
Anthony wasted no time diving into Zombie Survival Crew missions. He signed, he sang, he videoed –and he put Juliette on the floor, literally, in laughing hysterics. It took us all about 10 minutes to get her back up. I swear we laughed so hard everyone in the room lost five pounds.
Neil Brown Jr. arrived with a bang. Literally. I was in the room talking to Lisa when suddenly we heard a loud banging for the other side of the connecting doors, almost as loud as the thunder earlier. Next thing we know, Neil burst into the room. That man is a ball of energy and set the tone for our insane weekend as soon as he got there. (Which may have included a 4 am Mac Donald’s run after some severe run-ins with a bunch of angry limes. Don’t ask.)
The last of our crew wouldn’t arrive until really late. James Gonzaba and Veronica met with us early Saturday, sometime shortly before the alleged McDonald’s trip. James was smart. He saw Neil –and Juliette and my shell-shocked faces –and ran for his room. There’s a reason we thought it wise to draft him into ZSC command. Just sayin’. James kept his head down until it was time for us all to get shuttled back to the convention center to begin the madness that was Dallas Comic Con 2011.
Roughly 63% of households in the United States have at least one pet. What would happen if the zombie virus jumped species? Seventy-one million homes are at risk should this happen. Sure, no one is going to run screaming if the family goldfish turns. But maybe they should. The zombie virus would mean they could “survive” out of water, and maybe give them greater powers of locomotion. Putting aside the goldfish threat for the moment, most people have larger pets, like dogs, cats, parrots, etc. Fido with the uncontrollable hunger of the undead? Totally terrifying.
One of the reasons the zombie virus frightens us so much is because it strips away everything that makes a person human. In a matter of moments the virus renders a person nothing more than a ravenous animal. The question is; how would it affect creatures that are already in touch with their primal instincts?
Domesticated animals have been given human traits so that they are able to live amongst us without too many dangerous mishaps. Dogs are the perfect example of this process. In the wild, dogs (and their cousins) are pack animals. Domestication made them see humans as their pack instead of other dogs. Through time and training they adapted, learning our spoken and silent languages to fit in better. Stray dogs revert back to an all-dog pack mentality. However they still recognize humans as the dominant being in the urban forest.
If we strip away the domesticated parts of an animal, we are left with your basic wild beast. Even then they will see man as a predator and shy away from us with minimal confrontation. In humans the zombie virus overrides the fear instinct. Take that fear of predators from an animal and there is nothing holding them back from attacking. Wild animals are outfitted with some vicious weapons. Without the fear of being hurt or possessing pain receptors to be aware of injury once turned, they will put those claws and teeth to good use.
For most of us, the greatest problem would come from the animals we’ve brought in to our houses as pets. Pigs, for example, will eat almost anything even without being turned. In Hannibal by Thomas Harris, there are pigs that have been trained to eat humans. It’s not unheard of for domesticated animals to eat their owners outside of novels, either. Numerous accounts have been reported of cats eating the dead when they run out of food. They do what they have to in order to survive.
What if you lived near the local Zoo? It wouldn’t take long for an infected and crazed animal to force its way out of captivity. Images of tigers looking like the Doberman Pinschers from Resident Evil come to mind. Trust us when we say, you want to get as far away from zoos or wildlife centers after the first zombies have been found.
It is unclear how long it will take for the virus to jump species. However the potential for disaster is right there under our noses. If your animal is bitten while protecting the family, put it down in a humane manner. Vigilance will be what keeps the virus from crossing over sooner. Or so we hope. For all we know the virus could start with animals…
No one let that idea get further than this dispatch. We are under heavy surveillance and the UGA doesn’t need any new ideas.
You’re walking down the street on your way to work, same as you do every day. A stranger steps out of a shop and walks towards you. Even though you try to move out of the way, they crash into you. After a few muttered apologies, they leave. Only then do you notice that your forearm is bleeding from a small cut and going numb. Within minutes that entire side of your body loses sensation. A little while later you are unable to control any of your movements.
You’ve been made into a zombie.
How can it be that easy, you ask? If you lived in Haiti, where Voodoo reigns supreme, there would be no question about the existence of zombies. However, unlike other “breeds” of zombie we have explored here at ZSC, zombies created by Voodoo are living, breathing humans.
Victims are dosed with a neurotoxin. There has been extensive debate about which neurotoxin is actually used during the zombie making process. In The Serpent and the Rainbow, victims were given a dose of tetrodotoxin powder. Tetrodotoxin is found in puffer fish and its history of being extremely lethal puts the legitimacy of these claims into question. But for the sake of simplicity, we’ll use it here.
The tetrodotoxin works into the nervous system and shuts it down. The victim’s breathing will become shallow. Their body is unresponsive to stimulation. While they cannot feel, move, or breathe properly, most victims remain fully aware of what is happening to them in this state of living death.
Treatment of tetrodotoxin involves maintaining the body until it processes the chemical. Most villages don’t have the means to put someone on life support, let alone the manpower and supplies to do so when that person may pass away anyway. Tetrodotoxin has no known antidote. Once the physician sees no visible signs of life, they declare the patient deceased. The victim then ends up buried alive.
In the cover of darkness the Bokor, or sorcerer, will venture to the graveyard to dig up the victim. At this time the newly made zombie is given a powerful hallucinogenic. Most believe the substance to be derived from the datura plant. Datura causes violent hallucinations and photophobia (extreme sensitivity to light). One dose will affect the victim for approximately 48 hours.
The heavy influence of the Voodoo religion in the region is the key element to the zombie creation process. If the victim survives exposure to the various chemical compounds at play, they should recover themselves and become normal within days. Believers that go through the process convince themselves, with influence from the Bokor, that they are actually a zombie. These zombies will continue to work under the bokor for years. It is only when family members see them that legitimacy of their “undead” condition comes into question.
Bokors are believed to be able to manipulate the zombi astral, the spirit of a person. What we call the soul. Those that practice dark arts (making zombies, curses, etc…) are said to capture souls inside jars. Some will sell the jars as charms. Others gather them. The more captured souls in their control, the more powerful the bokor. To go against a powerful bokor is begging to be “cursed”. That is why so many of these living zombies strive to believe their conditions and remain in service to the bokor.
If the family recovers their loved one, they won’t find much of that person left. Years of believing yourself dead and exposure to powerful hallucinogenic drugs warps the brain. Zombies without a bokor riding herd on them often end up in asylums. Those who aren’t discovered tend to haunt graveyards, as they feel closer to the dead than the living.
We here at the Zombie Survival Crew consider these zombies to be victims. That is unless they attempt to harm a crewmember. Unfortunately it is difficult to tell them apart from the other breeds. Keep in mind that newly claimed zombies of this type would appear sweaty. Their eye movements will be erratic, and though it will be difficult to tell, they are breathing. If you think they are the victim of a Voodoo spell, report the zombie but do not dispatch them.
Uuuugh. Arrrgh. Gurrgh… 
