One is chosen to carry the burden.
Written by Jason McCullough, photography by Scott MacIver, and finishes by Kim Maciej.
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These are the tits you get to see.
If you’ve come here wondering whether or not you should sit down and give Mr. Zombie’s latest foray into horror a chance I’ll save you some time and let you know right off the bat that no, you should not. Not because it’s too edgy or horrific or what have you, but because it was fucking awful. As a group, we’ve watched (and loved) a lot of terrible movies. It takes a special kind of movie to make me actively tell people to avoid it at all costs. Especially when that movie contains a bunch of cool visual elements, a so-so story and is helmed by a director with a pretty decent horror pedigree. If you’re expecting anything remotely resembling House of 1000 Corpses, The Devils Rejects or the two Halloween remakes you will be sorely, sorely disappointed.
If you’re expecting to see Sheri Moon Zombie’s tits you will also be sorely, sorely disappointed. Oh this movie has tits, a LOT of them in fact. They’re just not the kind you want to be seeing. Unless you’re into either incredibly old and/or fat lady tits. Then this movie is basically your new spank bank. Here are some of the tits you’ll get to enjoy ->
This screenshot is from the first 5 minutes of the movie and at this point I was like “Ok Rob, you’d better have some sort of pay off for making me see that.” Spoiler alert: he does not. ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Fed up and disgusted by the spectacle that takes place on a daily basis at the gates of New Bunker, I grease the wheels of the machine and pass through it like unwanted shit and fall into the cesspool of humanity that is this supposedly great city. I’m supposed to meet some shadowy figure in a recondite little bar that I will omit the name of for the safety of everyone involved. How this meeting will occur is a puzzle that I can’t quite make sense of. I don’t know who this person is, and as I’ve said before, there’s about as many people who know what yours truly looks like as there are survivors of a zombie bite. The whole thing makes me nervous and has my stomach in knots. As almost an afterthought I realize that I’m actually in a bar. It’s been years since I’ve had the pleasure of imbibing anything other than home-made moonshine. I catch the bartender’s eye with a lazy gesture and order whatever passes for scotch.
It is then when I take notice of the evenings’ entertainment. ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
After slumming it in the caverns beneath New Bunker for a few days I finally have a few leads and am ready to make my way into hostile enemy territory. I reflect a moment on my predicament, I have nowhere to go except directly into the city. The city run by a man who wants me dead. The city built piece by piece from scum skimmed from the pot of greed and gluttony that feeds desperate humans’ base desires. I’m looking forward to it really.
I spent some time watching the meat grinder that is the public entrance to New Bunker. With hundreds arriving per day and only dozens allowed admission, sections of the caves and tunnels have degenerated into a slipshod refugee camp, an entire sub-city. With the help of a few guards sympathetic to my cause I can come and go as I please from these areas. I keep my head down and observe the demoralized system that keeps this city alive. I can’t help but be amused that even though Conroy knows I’m here, he cannot seem to find me. Those few who know my identity know better than to sell me out. They’ve got a bigger reward coming their way if they play along. ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
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