Gather ’round the shortwave, sweethearts, and put down that rusted spoon! The Atomic Sisters are back with a cautionary tale that’s as catchy as a Geiger counter in a lead mine. If you’ve been scavenging near the old fault lines lately, you might want to listen close—this one could save your stomach (and your DNA).
A Recipe for Disaster
We all know the feeling: you’re three days into a trek, your rations are looking like sawdust, and suddenly—glory be!—a pristine crate appears in the wreckage. But as Vivian, Rosemary, and Frankie remind us, not everything that wiggles is meant to be breakfast.
The girls stumbled upon a mystery in “Crate 29” that’s giving “sour dough” a whole new, sentient meaning. It seems some pre-war pantry items didn’t just survive the fallout; they evolved.
The Side Effects May Vary
According to the sisters, these aren’t your grandma’s buttermilk biscuits. We’re talking about baked goods with enough personality to file a legal dispute and enough radiation to turn a common bunker cat into a mathematical genius.
If your food starts whispering back or humming in three-part harmony, do yourself a favor: stick to chewing on your boots. Because once these biscuits hit your system, you aren’t just digesting—you’re being rewritten.
DON’T EAT THE BISCUITS IN CRATE 29
by: Atomic Sisters
Well we found a crate near the old fault line
A dusty old box marked 2-9
We cracked it open with a hopeful cheer
Now someone’s laughing in reverse right here
Oh we were digging through the wreckage by the rusted rail
When a fella found a box and began to wail
He said biscuits girls they’re looking fine
But now he’s got a third eye and he dreams in brine
Don’t eat the biscuits in Crate 29
They sizzle like a fuse and taste like pine
They wiggle when you butter hum when chewed
One tap danced off in a terrible mood
Mabel gave a bite to her bunker cat
Now he’s doing calculus and wearing a hat
Billy tried to nibble with some mutant jam
Now his eyebrows talk and his nose goes blam
Don’t eat the biscuits in Crate 29
They glow in the dark and whisper mine
They whimper they wiggle they bark they whine
It’s like snacking on a landmine
We tried to toss them in the burning stack
But they crawled right out and came right back
We buried one deep under concrete weight
It mailed itself home with a note that said late
They don’t go stale they don’t go soft
One climbed the tower and set it aloft
They smell like soup and buzz like bees
And they once made a marriage with a can of peas
Don’t eat the biscuits in Crate 29
They’ll rewrite your brain and reroute spine
If you’re hungry darling chew your boot
But those biscuits bite back and file a dispute
Don’t eat the biscuits in Crate 29
They’ll rewrite your brain and reroute spine
If you’re hungry darling chew your boot
But those biscuits bite back and file a dispute