Game over, man. LV-426 is covered with these freaky pods full of death with a side of horrific torture and a wafer thin mint of pissing your god damn pants if any member of your crew complains about a stomach ache. Not that there are any more of us here. I’m the last one. Hell, those crazy bastards even ate the androids. I’ve holed up here in the ship’s mess. I’d like to pretend I’m waiting for rescue, but since I vented all the fuel and we’re just tumbling in the black, I know I’m really just waiting to die. I’ve heard asphyxiation isn’t a bad way to go. I guess I’ll find out.
My descriptions don’t do these things justice, and honestly, my chickenscratch drawings are so bad I can’t tell the difference between the aliens and an angry, carnivorous horse. You need to know, man. If you find my body, take a good, hard look at these pretzel rolls. If you see a two foot tall version, don’t go near these things. Drop whatever you’re doing and fucking run back to your own ship. You’re probably dead anyway, but I like to think you’ll survive long enough to get word back to the rest of the colonies.
Look, all I have left is time to kill, so if you want to sculpt up some warnings of your own, here’s a recipe. Even if no one believes you, the rolls taste pretty darn good as burger buns. At least you can have a decent last meal.
Alien Xenomorph Pretzel Bread Eggs
2 1/2 cups flour
1 cup whole milk
1 tbsp active dry yeast
3 tbsp packed light brown sugar
2 tbsp melted butter
1 tsp table salt
1 tsp green food coloring
3 cups warm water
1/3 cup baking soda
2 tbsp kosher salt or coarse pretzel salt
Warm your milk up in a microwave until it’s the temperature of warm bathwater. Mine took about 20 seconds, but who knows what kind of crap equipment you have on your ship. Just test it with a finger. Not too hot, or else you’ll kill the yeast. You don’t want to do that. Those beasties are your only friends, now.
Dump the yeast and milk into a bowl and halfheartedly mix them up. Go press your ear against the bulkheads or feel the floor for vibrations for the next 10 minutes. When you come back, the yeast will have bloomed into a healthy colony, unlike those poor bastards on LV-426.
Now dump in the brown sugar, salt, egg, and food coloring. Mix it all up, then add a cup of the flour. You should have an unappetizing green slurry. Go ahead and add the butter now. If you add it earlier, the heat will kill your yeast. The flour is like a buffer of colonial marines, protecting the yeast colony.
Go ahead and add the rest of the flour, now. If your mess has a stand mixer, attach the dough hook and let it knead away for the next 6-7 minutes. If you knead the bread by hand, give it 10 minutes of your undivided attention. It’s better than thinking about what’s outside those doors.
You should end up with a green blob. Don’t panic. It’s supposed to look like that. Cover it with a dishtowel and let it rise for an hour.
When you come back, the dough should have doubled in size. Punch it down once. Don’t whale into it. This isn’t the place to take out your frustrations.
Once the dough is as deflated as your hopes, cut it into six roughly equal pieces.
Roll the six pieces into balls. These will become your xenomorph nest.
Roll the balls back and forth between your hands until they become oblongs. Don’t worry that they’re not evenly sized. They’ll become bottom heavy when baking.
Now mix your warm water and baking soda until the later is dissolved in the former. Your xenomorph eggs need to take a little bath. Use a slotted spoon to dunk them in the soda water for about 10 seconds.
Look at that transformation. They went in lime green and came out more minty. Lube up a cookie sheet and arrange your eggs three inches apart. The bastards need room to grow.
Grab some kitchen shears and create the gross tentacle flaps by snipping a shallow X into the top of each roll.
Use your fingers to carefully separate the newly cut tentacles then sprinkle the top of your rolls with coarse kosher or pretzel salt.
Bake your eggs at 350F for 10-12 minutes, or until the exterior is golden brown with green veins. The green interior should peek through from behind the tentacle flaps.
Imagine a room full of hundreds of these things. Not the delicious rolls the size of your fist, but two foot tall real damn alien eggs stuffed with pure evil. If you see anything like this, nuke the planet from orbit and run like hell. If you’re reading this, it’s probably already too late. I’m sorry.
Oh, you’re out of flour and milk? Well, if you’ve got some eggs and cucumbers, you can still leave folks a warning and a snack. Not that it’ll help. Nothing will.
Bitchin’ Bread Battle: Enter the Madness
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 1: Nutella Challah
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 2: Banana (Catan) Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 3: Rosemary Garlic Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 4: Ood Rolls
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 5: Not Quite King’s Hawaiian Rolls
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 6: Make it Dough
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 7: Wookie Pull Apart Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 8-11: Settlers of Catan Bread Board
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 12: How NOT to Make a Sandworm
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 13: Valentine’s Day Anatomical Human Heart Pull Apart Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 14: Nutella or Cinnamon Roll Hearts
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 15: Outback Copycat Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 16: Return of the Sandworm
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 17: Vegan Popplers
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 18: Woodbury Bleeding Zombie Victim Loaf
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 19: Alien Xenomorph Pretzel Bread Eggs
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 20: Aperture Laboratories Bleeding Summer Strawberry Lemon Bread
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 21: Roasted Garlic Bread in Meatloaf Grease
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 22: Wonder Woman
Bitchin’ Bread Battle Day 23: Watermelon Bread