White Zombie is a 1932 American independent Pre-Code horror film directed and produced by brothers Victor Halperin and Edward Halperin. The screenplay by Garnett Weston, based on a book by William Seabrook, tells the story of a young woman’s transformation into a zombie at the hands of an evil voodoo master.
From time-to-time, when she’s Matron Allison, the girl experiences lapses. This is one of those times.
Therefore, no geriatric blonde sternka, blue-tinting hairnet, or septum ring. Disfiguring homely makeup abandoned in favor of Bolshoi-bare. Yellow blonde jeannie worn let down, not yanked back into a sternka, therefore no deviation whatsoever from Allison’s preferred version of herself.
Matron Allison, again sporting Allison’s preferred version. Blurring the line between Allison and Matron Allison. At times like this, the only meaningful difference between the two of them is Matron Allison’s White Zombie. In effect, making Allison redundant.
Matron Allison stands behind the motel’s check-in desk. As usual, all of the rooms are empty. Again, sporting Allison’s preferred version means she’s wearing those thick-readers which render her fugly all by their lonesome. Zowie! She’s hardly the magnet to attract or retain guests.
The girl hears a car pull up outside. She steps from behind the counter to greet the motel’s newest visitors.
Two very pretty blondes enter the motel’s office. When they see her, they triple-down on their jest at her obvious expense.
They are a rarity around here: repeat customers. In point of fact, they are paid members-in-good-standing of the timeshare known as the MVC (Motel Vacation Club). Both of them are Angels disguised as mundane.
Then. The Change. Kaboom!!! Plaintive makeup paints their faces, necks, and cleavage. Hard and pretty gives way to much older looking and well-used. Retro thick-readers download onto their now-ravaged faces. Their golden-blonde jeannies yank back into sternkas.
Angels. Bespectacled. They’re now wearing sternns. Those authentic 1950s thick-readers that are horn-rimmed, with clear frames, and are cat-eye style.
Angels. In spite of being miniskirted, now they’re walking stilted, as if they’re butch, strapping butch, and having an MTG “bleach-blonde, bad-built, butch body” moment. Their limited walk gets even more limited, as if they’re now wearing long hobble skirts, when in fact they’re now strapping punitive Laverta-Diggs underneath their brief skirts. Strapping Piranhas, Parts, and Laverta-Diggs, underneath their minis. Thusly, they’re strapping butch-n-bound.
Angels. One is Gertrude, the twenty-something escort who’s in the role of submissive. The other one is Ester, Gerturde’s thirty-something client who’s in the role of dominatrix. Sometimes they switch roles. Obviously, this is not one of those times. They’re extreme ascetics.
Of course. Wearing plaintive. Gertrude looks like a well-rode forty-something and Ester looks like a well-rode fifty-something. Looking triple-downed on worn out!!!
Gertrude is wearing a spiked dog collar with a barbwire leash. She’s walking behind Ester. An invisible hand is tugging on her leash. The collar can be triggered by its wearer to constrict and thereby achieve auto-erotic asphyxiation. This choke collar is an MTM, a mindless thinking machine, and therefore a potentially lethal oxymoron.
A penis gag downloads and silences Gertrude. Ester continues to hurl verbal abuses at Allison, all by her lonesome.
Ask any casino boss worth their salt. A few whales can out-profit many minnows. As such, the steady revenue stream from the MVC’s few members has made the motel solvent again and then some.
Allison will book them in the cabin next to the office. Peep holes in the walls affording her a Peeping Tom’s view of the twosome’s steamy activities.