Encasing freshly-stacked shelves of Snickers bars, the sole structure that silently stands amid the apocalypse is a 7-Eleven branch along a deserted Pablo Ocampo street. At its center, none other than Kim Mingyu—or at least his standee—clawed free from the infected who had too much of his veiny delectables.
As their zombified selves slobbered at his pandesal-like abs, it has become a mission for many to enjoy him in his real, shirtless glory, including his more than precious built-in Snickers. From scenes of once-in-a-lifetime weddings to outright romantic dramas, it is undeniable that he has satisfyingly nutted his way to mix four flavors together.
Such fanfare has pushed Snickers’ profit to an all-time high. President and CEO of the company, Khan Thut, has reported a 1997-percent increase in sales following the arrival of standees at convenience stores. In dreams and reality, Mingyu has successfully controlled the unwieldy minds of CARATs, officially becoming the first person of divine descent to have been wedded and divorced a million times.
17 days later
Waves of evolving fans came in the flesh once The LuhSallian started hunting for the Snickers-crazed stans. Their ferocious transformations became increasingly evident as the supernatural effects of the chocolate bar gradually seeped into their systems. What was once a fun competition to win tickets has turned into a pre-apocalyptic nightmare—casting the prize aside and gnawing at chunks to have a bite of their eternal god, Kim Mingyu.
Pining Garcia, a CARAT whose video reached a thousand views, enters her interview with The LuhSallian with a hand on her stomach. Beads of sweat form on her forehead, veins popping against pale, clammy skin. “Ang sakit na talaga ng tiyan ko,” Garcia growls before excusing herself. According to her, she munches on Snickers whenever she needs to reshoot her videos, which leads to excruciating stomachaches. When asked how many bars she eats on a regular day, she proudly exclaims, “17, para SEVENTEEN right here!” before rushing back to the restroom as her stomach grumbles once again.
(My stomach is upset.)
Meanwhile, self-proclaimed ‘Nepo-CARAT’ Kate Blatco sits with her bloodshot eyes and hair in disarray. “Are we not gonna start pa? Sayang time ko, I have to see Kim Mingyu pa,” she complains. Fellow fans have expressed their annoyance on X over Blatco’s narcissistic melodrama, as she brought a crew to film her video entry and used her connections to gain more views and engagement. “Nepo-CARAT daw ako? Excuse me! I’m not nangingialam nga sa kanila! They’re just as rabid as me kaya! They’re just inggit kasi I’m the closest one to our divine right now!” She shouts, growing more erratic, leading her crew to drag her away from the interview.
(I’m not even meddling with them.)
Amid the fans’ rabid behavior, one of the SEVENTEEN members and Mingyu’s friend is both fearful and entertained by it. Donning a disguise of a hoodie, sunglasses, and a cap, Choi Seungcheol tells The LuhSallian that he usually stands behind Mingyu’s standee to watch the fans shooting in real time. “Para silang mga zombie kung sugurin ‘yung standee. Parang sinasamba na nga rin nila si Gyu. They keep on referring to him as a god while swallowing—swallowing talaga—their Snickers, their mouth drooling and all that,” he recounts, describing the CARATs’ madness.
(They seem like zombies as they approach the standee. It looks like they’re also worshipping Mingyu.)
War ba this?
Incessant consumption of the snack bars has triggered a transmutation, an emergence of an insatiable hunger to devour Kim Mingyu. Monstrous clamor echoes outside 7-Eleven branches as the singer’s devotees attempt to tear through the barricaded entrances—seemingly too weak to keep the feral appetite of CARATs at bay.
Several convenience store lockdowns have been implemented to mitigate this crisis, resulting in the entrapment of terrorized employees within critical branches, all tasked with destroying existing Mingyu standees to ease the influx of the depraved horde in crucial city zones. “We’ve gotten rid of almost all of the standees, but no matter what we do, they still keep coming! It’s as if they smell fear,” Lina Basan, a longtime 7-Eleven manager of a branch in Vito Cruz, confides fearfully.
The nation is now at a standstill as packs of zombified CARATs line the streets, causing massive traffic jams in numerous cities. Signs of mass hysteria have also grown evident, with multiple citizens claiming to hear a perpetual rendition of Aju Nice upon exposure to a standee.
Orders from the national government to eradicate any Mingyu standees sighted have inadvertently created a scarcity, spiking a demand for the heartthrob’s titillating paper-lined figure. Insider trades have been rumored to now penetrate the underground pink-and-blue market, driven by preterhuman desperation to snag even a semblance of the lusciously built beefcake, even by cardboard.
Train to ubusan
Maeli Bogs, a trader on the downlow, admits to selling make-shift Mingyu standees, taking advantage of the CARATs’ primal urge to pounce on anything remotely close to the idol. “Sinimulan ko na nga magbenta ng standees ni Donny Pangilinan galing ASAP,” Bogs reveals.
(I’ve started selling Donny Pangilinan’s standees from ASAP.)
Amid this illicit trade, threats to national security, and public health concerns, the government searches Left & Right to stop the unyielding legion of famished CARATs. But it seems that only one Maestro stands a chance at putting an end to this apocalypse.
Kim Mingyu is quick to respond to the public outcry, fearlessly descending onto ground zero from his heavenly aircraft stationed at the coast of Manila. Like a Shining Diamond, the country’s eyes are glued to the gleaming 6-foot-2-inch dreamboat as he approaches the hivemind. With every news outlet at the stand, the nation quivers in anticipation of the singer’s messianic move.
He pauses, right as the voracious horde rushes to swallow him whole. Nonchalantly, he pulls it out. A long packaged bar with the familiar brown, slick coating of chocolate. As Mingyu takes a bite, he utters a single sentence, caramel still oozing from his luscious lips: “Hungry? Grab a Snickers!” He holds up the half-bitten snack smugly, and a gush of clarity sends his fans toppling, as if the Spell had been lifted—CARATs all around the country re-awaken. With one line, Kim Mingyu hits a Home Run, triumphantly saving the country and proving that everyone is truly not themselves when hungry.
Snickers. The cure to Healing an apocalypse.
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EDITOR’S NOTE: This work is part of The LaSallian’s annual spoof articles, which use satire to examine current events, issues, and culture. While it embraces humor, most articles still aim to inform and foster critical thinking.
Read all articles at spoof.thelasallian.com.