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.
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