This year, our most ambitious yet, the poor gingerbread people are in the midst of a zombie siege.
So how does such a beautiful atrocity come about? Well, first, Matt makes a blueprint.
Then I bake a whole lot of gingerbread, cut out the pieces, mix up some cement-like royal icing, and watch him put his vision together.
This time with the structural support of some Costco shakers of chili powder. Guess I won't be making any more hotwings this year.
Geometry in motion! Meanwhile I frost up some nice, ugly gray gingerdead men. Get it?
Windows boarded up with wafer cookies were my idea, Matt's fine execution.
Time to frost and decorate. These two enterprising fellows on the roof have repurposed the Christmas lights into a distress signal. Also, the chimney is a Three Musketeers bar. Yum.
On the second tier of roof, our hero fends off the more agile, climbing zombies with his adorable candy crowbar.
One of his friends wasn't so lucky. There's a frenzy for his Twizzler innards, while a poorly printed Peeps snowman looks on cheerfully.
Oh no, the wafers on the door were too light and flaky and delicious! They're getting in!
More more of the gingery undead shuffle in past the Christmas tree. The bonfire in the corner of the yard still burns, from when our gingerbread folk still thought they could burn them all. You can just make out the M&M buttons and gray icing skin of one of the fallen between the chocolate-filled cappuccino stick yule logs. In fact, those flames might be getting a little out of control...
And that's how you make a Gingerbread House of Horrors, folks!
What do you do to put a little horror in your holiday? Comments are always welcome! Or keep up with my fictional musings by joining me on Facebook, on Twitter, or by signing up for email updates in the panel on the right!