Ed Blood Party: Ben And

Metal screeched. Sparks flew. And a single, solitary zombie head tumbled out the other side, rolling across the finish line with a wet thud .

But in the Blood Party, death is just a temporary setback. As long as your head—or at least a significant chunk of your torso—crosses that finish line, the glory is yours. Ben and Ed Blood Party

Ben reached the final stretch: the . He looked at the whirling blades, then at the finish line just ten feet beyond. With a shrug that sent a few maggots tumbling from his shoulder, he dove headfirst into the machinery. Metal screeched

The neon lights of the arena flickered, illuminating a crowd of screaming, undead fans. They weren't here for the drama; they were here for the physics. Specifically, the physics of what happens when a zombie meets a giant, rotating hammer at forty miles per hour. But in the Blood Party, death is just a temporary setback

The floor of the was slick with things that weren’t quite water, and the air hummed with the electric buzz of a thousand sawblades. For Ben—a man who had traded his humanity for a rotting, green complexion and a suspiciously high pain tolerance—this wasn't a nightmare. It was just another Tuesday night on national television.