For me, it’s Zombies Versus Cheerleaders.
My research has led me into the realm of comics, and so far, it’s been fruitful territory. The Walking Dead. Marvel Zombies. iZombie. The Zombie Survival Guide: Record Attacks.
But finally, I’ve gone too far.
Zombies Versus Cheerleaders is exactly what you think it is: scantily drawn cheerleaders, zombie mayhem, and a lot of campy humor. It’s a teenage fanboy’s zombie sexploitation dream, and it makes no pretense to be anything else.
Plot, characterization, theme—bah! Who needs them when you have tightly stretched sweaters, really short skirts, glimpses of undergarments, suds in the shower, and pouty lips? The sexploitation never goes beyond PG-13, but tantalization is part of the point.
I don’t know if I’m more horrified by the objectification of women or the splashes of guts and gore smeared all over every page. In either case, the artists and writers are all having great fun. Part of me wants to take this seriously and be outraged; part of me is shaking my head and chuckling. Part of me wants to wash my brain.
Frankenstein was stalked and eventually killed by his monster. Moreau’s Beast-Men killed him. The Invisible Man went mad
I fear what this terrible research-gone-wrong will do to me….
Sis-boom-bah…go, fight, win…braaaaaaains!