Chapter: Proyecto Maltido.
POIZENDWICH
"A Sandwich With A Budget Of 335 Trillion Inside, A Killer Of Sanity."
Hola a todos, soy Humansleep. En esta ocasión quiero publicar mi trabajo en la comunidad Alien Art Hive. Y aquí también compartiré el proceso de trabajo, ya sea dibujo o boceto.
In a remote area where hunger is ever-present, creatures no longer eat because they need to. They eat because they are told to and forced to.
In the middle of the square, a giant, anomalous van is parked with a display table and plates on top. Its main menu item is just one thing: the Poizendwich. This sandwich looks convincing. Thick, layered like a decision made without thinking. The bread is as thick as concrete, the meat puffs up like an organ that forgot to stop growing, and the sauce drips slowly... like something too alive to be called food. The smell... is strange.
But this is not a typical sandwich; it is a poison or living parasite that disguises itself as food in order to attract the attention of all creatures so that they will consume it.
The owner said, “One bite and you'll feel calm.” No anger. No suspicion. No care. And it's true. The first bite numbs the tongue. The second bite makes the mind feel distant. The third bite... makes empathy feel like a concept that used to be important, but is now too tiring to remember. The creatures become calmer. More obedient. Easier to say, “Oh well, whatever.”
Behind the display case stood waiters with permanent smiles. They handed out slices of poizendwich while whispering, “This is for progress.” No one knew what the ingredients were.
There are rumors about the ingredients of poizendwich, which are said to be very special. Some say it's made from select meats. Others say it's made from large numbers that have been refined. There are also those who believe that it contains the taste of a promise that was once made but forgotten.
Clearly, every day the sandwich got bigger. Not because more ingredients were added, but because the creature eating it was shrinking. Over time, the jaws of the creature living in the sewer became wider and stronger so it could eat without thinking.
One day, a small creature stopped in front of the anomaly van with its display window. It just stared at the poizendwich for a long time. It said, “This doesn't taste like food...” The creatures around it immediately panicked. Not because its words were wrong, but because they had to think for a moment to understand. And there were also some adult creatures who had been infected with the virus from the poizendwich parasite who laughed at the little creature, then told it to try eating the food.
The owner quickly offered a large piece. “Try it, it's free.” The little creature hesitated... then took a small bite. Silence. Then he smiled. “Oh yeah, it's good.”
A few minutes later, the little creature stopped asking questions.
The side effects began to appear. After consuming it for a long time, the creatures began to change shape. Their faces no longer showed any emotion other than empty satisfaction. Empathy? Optional. Logic? A paid add-on.
The city inside the sewers was quiet, even though it was full. There were no riots. There were no protests. Only the collective sound of chewing, like giant machines working aimlessly.
It started with an anomaly turning into a building. The building turned into a system. The system turned into a habit.
One day, an anomalous creature from a distant land was wandering around when it accidentally entered the area where poizendwich was originally created and produced. Then it saw many other creatures gathering in the distance, and its curiosity was piqued. It approached the gathering of creatures and, for the first time, saw a giant device or parasite that disguised itself as food, known as the Poizendwich.
One of the waiters approached and offered him a taste of the poison sandwich. The anomalous creature refused to eat. He just stood in front of the cart and stared at the sandwich for a long time. Then he said softly, “This is not food. This is a tool.”
The creatures stared at him as if they were looking at a foreign language. Then the waiter smiled even wider, cut off a large slice, and said, “Don't worry. After one bite, you won't mind anymore.” And it was true. In the end, what remained in the city were not hungry creatures—but satiated poizendwiches. Sated by devouring an enormous budget.
This work was created with ink on paper, using a pencil.
Sketch:
Outline:
What is a: Poizendwich.
It is not your typical sandwich, which is tasty and delicious. It is a strange parasitic creature that feeds on sanity and empathy. And in this version, it disguises itself as a sandwich, a large sandwich.
The poizendwich is a biological weapon that destroys sanity and empathy. It takes the form of a living parasite ready to devour organs, and one of its main sources of nourishment is the sanity and empathy of every living creature. It can also change its form into something very attractive, so that it can enter or be accepted without anyone realizing or knowing.
This is all I can say for right now. I apologize if any of my words or expressions are imperfect.
See you again in my next work... 👽🖐🏻