ANOTHER CHAPTER IN THE FLESH-EATING OEUVRE - 1

XOMBIE - That word, the brand name really, dominates the pink packaging, the 'X' and the 'O' part of some tic-tac-toe theme that was hard to decode at a glance, but, then again, who ever lingered long enough to ponder the packaging with such a promise of adventure inside?  And, truth-be-told, the crude marketing and packaging that had rolled-out with the toy's initial release persisted even now, adding that campy quality that had become such a part of the product's overall perception and XOMBIE company gestalt in the minds of the American public.

The packaging was pink because it was a XOMBIE - Girl, with 'Girl' in smaller lettering but indicating that this was the girl-directed version of the #1 'toy' in America, the run-away popularity of the product even now memorialized by the president of the US on the cover of Time Magazine laughing along with his photogenic son as Pogo, the "first dog", ran in terror (though never really in any danger-thus what otherwise might've appeared to be callous laughter) from the family Xombie (-Boy in this case) as it lurched and shuffled its 6-inch body (the action uncannily frozen in time in rich saturating color by Annie Liebovitz) across the Rose Garden lawn, the gnashing of its teeth and darting of its rancid bloodied tongue appearing blurry in the photo contributing to the overall quality of action, caught in the act, while at the same time, like a Rockwell painting, showing each face telling a different story, zombie-flesh-lust, bug-eyed canine & glaring, over-the-shoulder panic, toothy presidential glee and blue-blazer, red-tied confidence.

This packaging, OUR Xombie's packaging, had already been disassembled and left here on the dining room table along with the UPS box it came in and the family scissors that had been used, with no apparent physical damage to any children, thankfully and miraculously, to slice everything open.  Also on hand here on the table were the "directions for care."  The Xombie itself was no where to be found and my wife's car was not in the driveway.  I maintained my typical well-worn serenity but began the search.  Quick glance in the living room?  Nothing.  Kitchen?  No.  I'm reading the instructions.

"1. Remove Xombie from box.
 2. Peel back plastic cover but do not remove.  Avoid physical contact with dry ice.
 3. Fill loaf pan or similar container with warm (not hot) water.
 4. Submerge Xombie, in packaging with plastic cover, in warm water.  Let stand for 24 hours.  THERE IS NO DANGER OF XOMBIE ACTIVITY DURING THIS STAGE.  EVAPORATION OF DRY ICE MAY APPEAR DRAMATICALLY OMINOUS TO YOUNGER CHILDREN AND OTHER HOUSEHOLD PETS.  IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT PATENTED MELTING BE ALLOWED TO PROGRESS OUT OF REACH OF INDIVIDUALS 16 AND UNDER.
 5. After melting process let thawed Xombie stand on enclosed drying rack for 20-40 minutes.  Some odor may be noticeable and is completely normal.
 6. Use alcohol swab to disinfect the index finger of individual to whom the Xombie will link.  (XombiCO and the AMA recommend parents of small children perform linking steps under the care of a family physician.)  Use enclosed needle pen to quickly pierce the flesh of the disinfected finger.  Squeeze digit to bring forth a small drop of blood.
 7. Apply a small but firm amount of pressure to your Xombie's abdomen below the ribcage.  The Xombie's mouth should open.  Some additional odor and/or mucousy disgorgement is normal at this stage.
 8. Holding the finger with the drop of blood at least one inch above the open Xombie maw, allow at least one (1) droplet of blood to be released into the Xombie's mouth and then release the pressure on the abdomen.  It is recommended that no more than three (3) drops of blood be consumed by Xombie during linking phase as this may cause increased flesh-lust in activated Xombie.  
 9. Let Xombie stand an additional 10 minutes.
 10. Use enclosed band-aid to dress the bleeding index finger.
 11. After 10 minutes Xombie will be ready for use.  PLEASE SEE 'SAFE PLAY AND CARE.'"

I had heard the Xombie preparation was elaborate but everyone I had talked to had said it ended up being a lot easier than they had thought.  I open the door to the basement.  There is a foul stench and what sounds like  small sneezes - like little 'a-choo' sounds from Tinkerbell.  My daughter immediately goes into defensive mode at the sound the door yanking open and my agitated footsteps on the carpeted stairs.  Before I even turn the corner she starts to explain.

"There's something wrong with this one Daddy."

I reach the bottom of the stairs and see her sitting on the floor in the shadow of the television, enveloped in a horror-movie cloud of vampire fog, billowing and snaking in the drafts of the basement.  The fluorescent lights cast a greenish glow on the scene.  At her knees is a large serrated bread knife, its edge almost absurdly bloodied.  She is holding her hand suspended above an area of carpet to her right that has become blackened by the blood collecting and absorbing into its shag and pooling in the empty Xombie-less space in the block of dry ice resting there.

"Angie told me she fed hers blood to make it come awake but this one is broken."

The fog parted for a moment and I glimpsed a tiny, raggedly-dressed "man" laying on its side.  The tiny sneeze sounds were its retchings--it was violently aspirating my daughters blood onto the freshly painted basement wall and onto the Wii console tossed in the corner.

END OF PART ONE...