Hurrying to the source of the infestation, the Zombie Response Team hastily hooked the freshly-prepared brain onto a pole* and added a couple of lights. When we found the zombies lurching around near St Stephens Green, Charlie lifted the brain-on-a-stick aloft…
The brain caught a nearby zombie’s attention. Its eyes lit up. The rotting arms stretched upwards, and its low hungry moan of “braaaAAAIINS!” alerted its foul comrades to the presence of food. It was a beautiful moment 
Here zombie zombie zombie!
Having spent all the preparation time on the brain, I didn’t have a costume, but at the first pub the zombies attacked me**. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was eat the brain. I couldn’t stop lurching. Every word came out as a groan, and the brain was always, tantalisingly, out of reach. We followed the brain. We looked everywhere for brains: McDonalds and Chinese takeaways, restaurants and pubs, taxis and garda cars, the emo kids by Central Bank… no luck, no brains…
doneMany of the zombies had really gone to town on the costumes, complete with backstories: innocent bystanders attacked and zombified at work, at hospital, on the tennis courts and even onstage. More photos here and here! I’m inspired and plotting my costume for 2010***…
We may have invented a new extreme sport: zombie-baiting. Or possibly flashmob-bombing, as Charlie became the accidental leader of the march. Happily the organisers seemed quite taken with our efforts 
* duct tape
** with facepaint and chocolate sauce. Mmm chocolate sauce.
*** which, coincidentally, is when I will be issued with my flying car / rocketpack / house on the Moon. Isn’t the future great?
Posted by Becky 