And now for a real life story about a severed snake-head who came back to life…
…to kill the man…
… who killed him.
That’s right. It’d been guillotined and garbage-tossed for a full twenty minutes before the bodyless serpent launch outta the litter to annihilate the chef who went Queen of Hearts on his ass while trying to make snake soup.
Well, Elle, it MIGHT have been cool if this story hadn’t ended with him suffering the same fate as Bill’s brother. But like Beatrice Black Mamba Kiddo who dug herself out of a deep grave fueled on nothing but kung fu wisdom and a thirst for vengeance flavored blood, this snake sprang from the waste to sink its fangs into the dude who definitely didn’t see it coming.
Really, though?
Even zombies relent after losing their dome piece. I mean, I learned the backfiery knowledge that some creatures do this back when I was a cruel young brat smashing worms in two – sometimes the long squiggly micro-snakes called earthworms would make the best of my internal frustrations manifesting in their attempted murder by… multiplying. And then one day, not long ago, I half-smashed a spider on my counter (I had to. He was grabbing his crotch, pointing at me, and saying “TONIGHT” with a sneer), but he was so determined to come collect my soul for satan, that he defied death and continued his pursuit (albeit more slowly) in my direction with his four remaining legs. He continued, to my horror, unvexed and defying death – until round two of my phone book. But, all life long, I was assured that snakes couldn’t do that. Is nothing sacred? How’d this happen?
Even if there is a science to the half-rachnids OR this cobra WTF-ery, my neck will remain in a forever spasm of confused-dog-head-tilt-ness trying to make sense of the reports that it jack in the boxed out the effing trash basket. How? With what army of muscles? And how was his aim so good after being dead?
I feel like this headless snake tale’s got legs to it. And while it’s sad for the snake meat chef, I’d be remiss if I didn’t take advantage of this as a veganism plug and remind everyone that my plant based diet lands me zero chance of becoming my dinner’s dinner – ever.
Except on Giant Venus Flytrap Fridays.