Wait, is the one eating brains the work key or the locker? Or is that the bullet wound? Zombies, you're so confusing!
Now that I'm getting older and slowing down a little (LIES!) and not raging six nights a week like I once did, I can imagine eating bright green donuts shaped like sweet little bears without feeling queasy in the least. There was a time when even the hint of breakfast would send me wretching. I'm happy to be able to appreciate the cuteness and whimsy of green icing.