Apparently, there was no more room in hell. Saturday, Hades barfed hundreds upon hundreds of lost souls into the Bossanova Ballroom for the second-annual PDX Zombie Prom.
The theme, "Enchantment Under the Dead Sea," meant a considerable helping of drowned souls walking the scene, bloated and with starfish sticking out of their faces.
Hell, Spongebob Squarepants even made an appearance (apparently, Mr. Krabs finally got tired of his obnoxious voice and carved out his eye.)
Presented by Morti Viventi Productions and emceed aptly by horror mainstay Baron Von Goolo,
the prom was an all-out monster mash, with all manner of ghoul cutting a rug to the impressive punk-pop-rockabilly sounds of Toxic Zombie, sporting zombie backup singers and go-go dancers, and Writhe in Agony, a zombie band that played prom favorites ranging from “Hungry Like the Wolf,” “Blitzkrieg Bop,” and the decidedly un-promly “Head Like A Hole.”(due to the intense amount of fog and crazy lighting, WW
was unable to capture a photo.) Prom photos were available, and patrons even had a chance to take a nap in a real coffin, while bystanders were allowed to watch the deceased via a nightvision camera mounted inside.
Most makeup was amateur, but a makeup team was on hand to spice up the gore. Zombies pulsed throughout the double-decker bar, oozing blood on the floor and biting each other. Generation upon generation of the undead set loose: ' 50s poindexters, sexy nurses, tuxedo-clad messes, futuristic ghouls, disco kings, Victorian debutantes and hipster flesh-eaters intermingled. Upstairs, local vendors like Gorey Details shelled out nasty goods. Due to the massive amount of alcohol consumption, it's safe to assume that a steady diet of transient livers have turned the dead into alcoholics, and it was difficult to differentiate between shambling from years of rigor mortis and drunken stumbles.
Bloody faces smeared together during macabre makeout sessions, and the dancing dead turned out for one of the weirdest, sickest and most hysterical parties of the year. In short, it was the most enjoyable Armageddon imaginable.
The living had a presence too, with seemingly unaware ladies dressed to the nines only to become part of the buffet offerings. The event staff donned riot gear, complete with gear, furthering the feeling of an undead epidemic. The bands were even held at bay by sexy ladies in biohazard gear, who were quick to prod musicians back toward the stage with large sticks as they lunged at their next potential meal.
The Zombie Prom was a celebration of Portland's, and the world's, fascination with zombies, creatures that has held sway as the kingfish of terror ever since George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead
hit screens in the late '60s. With the huge popularity of Twilight
getting under the skin of horrormongers older than 14, vampires' sparkle is fading, ushering a new dawn of the dead. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
is hitting book circles. Movies like Zombieland
and the adaptation of Max Brooks' World War Z
are poised to be hits. Events like the Zombie Prom, October's Zombie Walk and the Zompire Film Festival are leading a local charge. This is a new tradition that will hopefully continue to walk the Earth unchecked, a bloody good time that can only get better as it rots.
WW writers AP Kryza and Matthew P. Singer giving each other some zed
The King is dead.
Ghouls in love.
Bungo, the world's happiest undead cannibal.
A stiff screwdriver.