S.G. Browne

M is for Maggots

(This view on zombie ‘life’ brought to you by Andy.)

It’s not easy being a zombie.

In addition to post-reanimation stress and spontaneous dismemberment, the undead have a host of unique challenges to contend with:

Fraternity pledge scavenger hunts.

We can fight off putrefaction with regular formaldehyde fixes.  We can laugh in the face of a society that no longer considers us human.  We can run away from fraternity pledges or even bite them.  (Which doesn’t turn them into zombies, by the way.  That’s just more Hollywood propaganda.  But it can lead to a nasty infection.)

We can do all of this and more.  But none of it matters if we don’t maintain our personal hygiene.  All it takes is one fly to lay its eggs on an open, festering wound and before you can say George Romero, you’ve got a full-blown maggot infestation.

When a corpse is fresh, it tends to draw flies to it like Republicans to a Democrat sex scandal.  Fortunately, since zombies mimic the living in their movements, flies don’t get a chance to lay their eggs on the various points of entry: eyes, mouth, genitalia.  But exposed flesh wounds are open invitations for a maggot smorgasbord.  Once the eggs have hatched, the maggots eventually eat their way under the skin, feasting on subcutaneous fat.  As I’ve mentioned before, if you get close enough to an infested corpse, you can hear the maggots feeding.  It sounds like Rice Krispies.
There’s nothing more disheartening than coming back from the dead and avoiding random dismemberment and staving off the effects of decomposition, only to let careless hygiene turn you into a walking Rice Krispies treat.  Whereas the average embalmed zombie can expect an undeath expectancy of anywhere from three to seven years depending on the climate, once you’re infested with maggots, you can figure on lasting about as long as a vow of fidelity at a Playboy Bunny orgy.

(Next entry:  N is for Naomi)

Filed under: Breathers,Zombies — Tags: , , — S.G. Browne @ 2:51 pm