Over the summer, the Unicorn Frappuccino took the Instagram set by storm, putting what we thought was a nail in the coffin of unicorn foods forever, but no (nayyyyy, if it behooves you). For much like the Night King resurrects a slain dragon into a blue fire-spewing undead beast, so hath Starbucks summoned the dead to rise again.
Yes, the Zombie Frap is a bit like a Unicorn Frap, colorful and Laffy Taffy-ish, except that it's only a scant 290 calories per regular order — that's grande for the rewards card holders — as opposed to the unicorn's 410 calories. The frap is sprinkled with a Green Tart Caramel Apple Powder and a mysterious plant-derived Pink Powder and is laced with tentacles of thick Zombie Mocha Drizzle. The drink is not really composed of "food" so much as the chemicals needed to preserve your body from the inside out, self-mummification being one of the most underrated Starbucks Rewards perks (terms and conditions apply). Atop sits a brain-like mass of pink whipped cream.
The first sip sends you back to middle school when those nefarious caramel apple lollipops first appeared out of the saccharine ether with their promise of tooth decay and what appeared to be candied radioactive dog barf on a stick.
"It looks like you're drinking guts," a coworker said of the Zombie Frap once I was back at the office. Drinking being a relative term, because nobody over 12 will tolerate even a venti serving of this nauseating mess. I was left crankier than usual, hunched over my desk, a Wilford Brimley in need of oatmeal and some diabetes brochures.
The drink, after having sweat on my desk for half an hour more, began to separate and level off like touristy pastel sand art made to look like sunset in a jar, except this didn't look like a sunset. More like a fecundated pond, the type that always has some sort of 90-foot swamp creature waiting at the bottom to drag you under when you're just trying to tan by a fecundated pond on your summer break. Get away, it seemed to warn.
I tossed it out and am fairly certain it ate through the garbage can in the Houston Press's kitchen, unsure as I was if you could actually wash it down the drain.
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With all that in mind, it's still going to be difficult to find a zombie frap in Houston for Halloween. When I called the Starbucks on Louisiana in Midtown to see if they're also carrying it, the barista told me they were out. "We do have the Frappula, though."
"It's a white chocolate mocha frappuccino with strawberry puree on top."
Sounds like a bloody mess that I shall leave be.