On March 7 in the Arellano Theater, Hopkins’ improv comedy group, the Buttered Niblets, put on a show entitled “Zombie Apocalypse.” The show provided the student body with an hour-long, laughter-filled respite from midterm exams and writing essays during hell week.
In the end, the “Zombie Apocalypse” did not really center on zombies, per se, but the random and funny name spoke to the total randomness of the show. The audience just “went with the flow” and enjoyed the utter hilarity that ensued and the group members’ improvisational talent.
When the show started, the members mentioned that they would take audience suggestions for skits throughout the show. In addition to picking out ideas written down by the audience before the beginning, they also mentioned that additional idea requests might also be made during the show:
“We might ask you for suggestions. Please keep them out of the gutter and out of the headlines,” they said.
Although a lot of contemporary comedy is based on sexual content and leading news stories, the Buttered Niblets’ comedy was brilliant in its flatout goofiness. The randomness and odd uniqueness of the audience suggestions made for the best skits.
The Buttered Niblets asked people to yell out nouns, adjectives and verbs to be the core of one skit. The final product: boulder, smelly, cartwheel. The comedians incorporated all three into a skit set in a girls’ dormitory bathroom. For instance, some cartwheeled their way into the scene, while others exited by curling up on the stage floor and rolling away like a boulder. True to the comedic form of 1970s British comedy troupe, Monty Python, the best way to understand the Buttered Niblets’ comedy in this show was not to ask questions but rather to just accept the amazing ridiculousness happening onstage.
Following this piece was one about an “edgy frozen yogurt shop,” in which the employees were every customer’s worst nightmare. In what is usually a happy, kid-friendly place for most people, the two cashiers cursed and swore at the innocent patrons who just want toppings on their cups of yogurt. The cashiers had no mercy and no patience for the complaints about yogurt and toppings. The hilarious breaking of the traditionally happy context of the frozen yogurt parlor is what made this skit so funny.
In the same footsteps as the skit before it, the next one featured the illustrious Queen Katrina of the Dance Floor, a sassy, reigning, arcade dance champion whose haughty attitude and “bragging rights” as dance champion intimidated and ultimately dominated all of her competitors. Queen Katrina’s intensity about her so-called “title” easily overpowered other characters at the arcade, such as an awkwardly sweet boy out with a girl on their first date.
The last two skits challenged the Buttered Niblets to seamlessly transition from one scene to another. One called for the characters to adapt their dialogue and behavior from a desert setting then to the Medieval era and finally to the Ice Age. Their acting looked effortless to the audience, but the difficulty in pulling something that off in a crowded room had to have been an obstacle to push through. Given its reaction, the audience greatly appreciated the Buttered Niblets’ talent across the board.
They certainly finished strong with a similar skit wherein the object was that all of the characters had to die by the end of three audience-suggested settings. The actors ingeniously and hilariously figured out outlandish ways to die in a library, museum and pillow factory.
By this time, Arellano was booming with laughter. In fact, some audience members were nearly in tears or falling out of their seats because they were laughing so hard. The “Zombie Apocalypse” certainly came at a good time for Hopkins students; with all of the academic stress leading right up to the start of spring break, the Buttered Niblets proved that sometimes, the best cure is just to get out of the dorm room, gather up a group of friends and have a good laugh.
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