CHUD LIST: BODILY FUNCTION JUNCTION – DAY 3

We’re
entering a new age here at CHUD, with a refreshed stable of writers, a
re-energized concentration of efforts, and a focus on consistent,
knowledge-backed fun. To ring in this new era for the site we wanted to
bring you a truly special, truly memorable, truly incredible list that
characterizes what CHUD is about, and we think we’ve cooked up just the
thing.

We’re
here to explore the most depraved, flinch-worthy, vomit-inducing (or
vomit-involving) moments ever put to film. We’re not interested in
simple gore and viscera here… We’re looking for the shittiest,
pusiest, cummiest, pukeiest, piss-filled scenes in the history of
motion-pictures. Some will be huge, some will be small, but they’ll all
be gross. We’ve also put an unprecedented amount of effort into
pre-planning, scheduling, and dividing the effort for this list, so
expect it to hit you every one of the next 25 weekdays (with a number of
special surprises planned for the weekends!).

So
without further ado, grab your nearest complimentary airsick bag (or
maybe just a whole trashcan) and jump into CHUD’s newest list.

——————————————————–
DAY 3

Dead Alive (AKA Braindead) (1992)

Peter Jackson’s delightful early gore classic features no shortage of drips, gloops, plops, and full-on bodily smithereenings. Human liquid might as well have its name above the title. Before he became known for not wearing shoes, fluctuating madly in size, and directing a few of the most successful films of all time ol’ Pete was a guru of gross shit and few can compare to the custard sequence in Dead Alive (called Braindead outside of North America).

The Setup: Lionel (Timothy Balme) and his mum (Elizabeth Moody) are having guests over for lunch. Problem is, she’s already jacked by the unholy plague dropped by the Sumatran Rat Monkey. She is on the way out of town and already knee deep in afterlife by the time the food is served and when the custard is brought to the table by her loyal son, things go south. Including her hearing.

A huge wad of pus shoots out from the old woman’s arm wound. Right into the custard about to be devoured.

It comes out of mom, which is the exact opposite of the plot of Oedipus.

Into food. Which then is shoved into man mouth. Hasty pudding indeed.

Her zombie pus becomes his digestif. It’s like all of your screams have gathered into a sickball and forced their way back into you. BUT IT GETS WORSE.

Her transmogrification from frigid dame to loose matter is far from over. Her ear has apparently checked its day planner and forgotten it was late for something…

Her ear is custard bound. Which is then calmly gathered by her spoon and shoved into her maw, where she listens to her teeth VERY CLOSELY. Pus and blood and saliva and juice and hatred all marry in a decadent stew as Mr. I Won Oscars allows us to watch an old woman chew her disgusting listener in close-up.

One aged ear + our innocence.

It’s grosser than every war, even the one with Elijah Wood and Kevin Costner.

Today’s installment was written by Nick Nunziata.

Previously:

DAY ONE – DAY TWO