An overweight zombie was led forward by Claudia–the crowd chanted her name again but she ignored them this time–and announced by Kinslow as a fire eater. When the zombie was center stage, a mutant in a chef’s hat and apron came out pushing a large pot on wheels. The chef stopped a few meters away from the zombie and waited while Claudia tied her charge’s hands behind his back. When all was ready, the chef opened up the pot to reveal a tray filled with small chunks.
Cat immediately clocked the chunks as bits of brain. She had seen enough brains over the past months to recognize them from a long way off.
The zombie began to moan hungrily. He staggered towards the pot but stopped when Claudia tooted sharply on her whistle. Cat could see that he was torn, but obedience to the girl took precedence over his desire to tuck into the brains.
As the zombie wavered, the mutant by the pot produced a can and soaked the slivers of brain in an acrid liquid. Cat couldn’t place the scent but it made her nose twitch and her eyes water. Mr. Dowling on the other hand loved it, and he began swaying beneath her, almost throwing her off as he licked his lips and moved jerkily from one side of the throne to the other.
The chef waited a couple of minutes while the band played a fast-paced song. Then he dug a book of matches out of a pocket, lit one, let the flame strengthen, and tossed it on to the brains, instantly igniting the gray, juicy scraps.
“That’s an eternal flame,” Kinslow snickered. “It will burn until the brain has been entirely consumed, even if you douse it in water.”
Using a long-handled fork, the mutant picked up a piece of the flaming brains and walked around the bound zombie. The zombie’s gaze fastened on the fiery morsel of brain, and he drooled as the chef teased him with it, waving it under his nose and luring him forward, almost to the edge of the ring, where Mr. Dowling was eagerly waiting.
Finally, at a nod from the clown, the mutant threw the piece of brain up into the air. Claudia blew her whistle and the zombie made a happy moaning noise. Opening his mouth, he moved beneath the now falling bit of brain, caught it between his teeth and swallowed it whole.
The mutant with the fork returned to the pot and started lobbing more burning scraps of brain into the air. The zombie caught them all, whirling around like a dervish, gulping each piece down. He was wincing from the pain of the fire, but he kept on eating, hunger getting the better of his agony.
After a while the zombie’s stomach wall started to glow beneath his shirt. As Cat watched with fascination, flames erupted from the zombie’s flesh, burning the shirt away and spreading across his chest. Soon he was a giant ball of fire, but still he went on snapping at the fresh bits of brain that were thrown his way.
“Hot stuff,” Kinslow grinned tightly, watching Cat for her reaction.
“Have you got any marshmallows for me to toast?” she sniffed.
“You don’t feel sorry for him?” Kinslow asked.
“Should I?” she shrugged.
“I suppose not,” Kinslow sighed as the flames reached the zombie’s brain and ate into it, finally extinguishing his spark of reanimation. “But maybe the next act will stir you.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear with relish, “The human cannonball!”