Party Crasher

This is the year of the zombie-kitsch takeover. A crowd of 300
limb-dropping goons assembles outside of the Science Fiction Museum and
Hall of Fame. The disorganized mass looks just as puzzled as the
onlookers until a man with a fishing pole starts barking orders.
He dangles a spongy slab of brain matter over the horde, and they snap
into character, slavering for the brains. The assemblage shuffles
downhill, drawing some bystanders’ stares away from the suddenly
mundane fixie bikers. A group of heroes (including one Starfleet
officer) “attack” as the mob approaches. This has to be the most
athleticism KeyArena has seen since the Seattle Storm played the Los
Angeles Sparks in the WNBA play-offs.

I ask a zombie named Cleo why people would spend a Saturday
afternoon like this. She replies, “Seattle is so isolated and
cold—this is a great way to get people out.” There is a
distinctive Seattle spin on this absurdist undead display: During the
march, a girl hoists an “Approve Referendum 71” sign, advocating for
undead marriage equality.

The horde marches toward Metropolitan Market to melt the Seattle
Freeze via small talk over produce. A good-sport employee, over the
intercom, slurs “free range” to interfere with the zombie clarion call
for “brains.” One frustrated shopper barks, “Y’all need to take this
Halloween dress-up shit back to the U-District!” The mass
lurches around the store, theatrically engaging the living, until it is
corralled back toward SIFF Cinema. It has been a full, fun day of
shambling.

Want The Stranger to stop hanging out with the undead in
public places and come in from the cold at your house party?
Send the date, place, and party details to partycrasher@thestranger.com.