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It was too good to be true.
A zombie attacks a homeless man and chews off half
his face. OK, maybe he wasn’t a zombie, but he was about as close as you could
ever hope to get. He was growling. He was naked. He was eating off someone’s
face. Had he eaten off anybody else’s face? Maybe he wasn’t a zombie, but at
least he was a cannibal. Maybe he was a serial killer cannibal?
OK, so it turned out that this was the only face he
had eaten, but oh how he had eaten. He had eaten a nose, an eyeball and no less
than half a face in a feeding frenzy that did not end until he was shot by a
cop. That’s some seriously fucked up zombie shit right there.
But do zombies have to be the walking dead to be
zombies? Why no they don’t in fact. But
what are the criteria? As we’ve learned from films like 28 Days Later it can be
a virus. In The Crazies it’s some kind of disease, and that one was by George
Romero, the man himself! So if it can be a disease or a virus, then why not Bath Salts and cocaine?
Wha-wha-wha-wha whoah-- what in the fuck are
“Bath Salts?”
Bath Salts or
Methylenedioxypyrovalerone,also known as Cloud 9, MDPK, MTV, Magic,
Maddie, Black Rob, Super Coke, PV and Peeve, or as we like to call it, The
Zombie Designer Drug, synthesized in 1969, made popular in the early 2000s, and
banned for the first time in the US no earlier than 2011. It causes panic
attacks, hypertension, hallucinations, suicidal thoughts and extreme anxiety
sometimes progressing to violent behavior-- or so says Wikipedia. But how often
is “sometimes?” So maybe it turns out it’s more likely to give you panic
attacks and hypertension than to cause you to eat someone’s face off. These,
unfortunately, are not the predictable results we’re looking for here.
Godammit.
OK, so it turns out the
guy who got attacked was this homeless guy with the adorable name of Ronald
Poppo. “Ronald Poppo lives in the moment” said the reporter.
"It's Amazing. He's an extremely charming man," said his doctor.
After surgery, Poppo, a
Miami Heat fan, said, “Go Heat.”
He said, “go Heat,”
quoth the reporter, before she tells us that maybe there’s a bright side to
this story after all. He’s in good spirits. He’s got his own bed. He’s eating
his favorite foods, oranges and pizza. Weighing the options, she came to the
right conclusion that having your face chewed off is slightly better than being
homeless.
So, as long as you’re
homeless and have the right attitude, getting your face eaten off by a zombie
can turn out to be a pretty sweet deal. Be charming. Say “go Heat.” To further
endear yourself to the public, request your favorite foods, oranges and pizza.
Everyone loves oranges and pizza. Have a cute name like “Poppie.” A special
fund will be set up in your honor, and you will get donations from all over the
world from people who are glad to give to the charming, endearing homeless man
who entertained us so much by having his face eaten off by a zombie, while
having the decency to stay in good spirits and thus, not make us feel like
dicks for how cool we thought it was when we first heard about it. And maybe
after you get what’s left of your face patched together and have paid all your
medical bills, there will be some spillover from that fund for you to afford to
rent an apartment—at least for a while-- and get some dental care for your few
remaining teeth. And until that day when you are sent on your way from the
hospital with one eye, no nose, and season tickets for the Miami Heat, the
world will love you. And then they will forget about you. At least until you’re
mentioned as a footnote in the next cannibal zombie attack.
The story of the Miami
Zombie is a story of hope. The hope that there could someday be a zombie
apocalypse or a face devouring cannibal serial killer, or maybe a designer drug
that turns those douches who go to raves into undead hoards for us to kill.
The Miami Zombie is
dead! Long live the Miami Zombie!
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