Friends, Americans, fellow humans, I come here this evening with direct and terrible news: We are one step closer to the Zombie End of Days! I know many of you have already prepared for this moment and likely have years of canned foods stored up next to your machetes, carefully preserved cricket bats and detailed escape plans to the nearest mall, prison or other impenetrable structure. But alas, the most precious and desirable of post-apocalyptic rations may now be gone forever when we are forced to regulate ourselves among the quick and the reanimated dead. At approximately 10 am on November 16 Anno Domini 2012, the Provider of Twinkies, Hostess, announced that they will provide no longer!
Woe be to us who must face this Brave New World without our Twinkies and our Ho-Hos! Truly we wretched few have been damned to a life where only those with a MacGuyver-like aptitude for making weapons from dismembered body parts or are masters in the Art of Parkour can survive this winter that has come. For it is Written in the Ruben Fleischer zom-com, Zombieland, so must it be…
As Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) has foretold, Twinkies do, in fact, have an expiration date. And when they are gone, so too goes the way of civilization. Some of you may say, ‘But that is just a movie.’ O, but if that were only so! In the prophecy of Woody, the survivors in a zombie-wrought Armageddon must struggle day-to-day just to find the world’s last box of Twinkies. Now, look around you. Look to your grocery markets, convenience stores and run-down 7-11s that have been laid barren of their Hostess products on this day. Then ask yourself, does this dystopia seem so different from the film's?
I care not of why this Chapter 11 has come, only that it is here. Fortunately, the Zombie Apocalypse has not fully commenced yet. We have time to horde what Twinkies, Wonder Bread, Donut Gems and other bountiful gifts sprinkled on this world by the brands and subsidiaries of Hostess that we can before fate grabs us all like so many Honey Buns. Treasure that last Ho-Ho next to a final round of ammunition, for you will need it in your stomach before being consumed yourself by a marauding corpse.
When that day arrives, likely sometime in late-December, it is best to split off into small groups that you can trust to roam the countryside for a series of whacky misadventures and related shenanigans. It is preferable if that group includes Emma Stone and/or Bill Murray.
I too wish we could include Woody, but alas he will be out there searching for those last Twinkies. And today, that just became a little harder.