Rare is the occasion where psychologically competent adults long for blood to be splattered in their direction. Also uncommon: A theater that provides guests with a poncho to protect them from said blood. So is leaving the theater looking like you've just awoken from a prolonged afterlife rot.

Rare is the occasion where psychologically competent adults long for blood to be splattered in their direction. Also uncommon: A theater that provides guests with a poncho to protect them from said blood. So is leaving the theater looking like you've just awoken from a prolonged afterlife rot.

I experienced all of the above last Friday. Welcome to "Evil Dead: The Musical."

CATCO-Phoenix's production is a theatrical take on the campy classic film "Evil Dead," which stars Bruce Campbell fighting off flesh-eating demons with a chainsaw appendage.

Gory and corny translate hilariously on the stage thanks to a talented Columbus cast, and there's a palpable anticipation before the show because of the ponchos given to guests sitting to the right and left of the stage. They get splattered with chocolate-based "blood" as the protagonist damns the zombie-like Deadites during song and dance. (Those sitting left of the stage bear the brunt of the blood bath. Try to sit there.)

"Welcome to SeaWorld," joked director Steven Anderson of the aisles of plastic-protected patrons as he introduced the musical.

Last week I played the role of "Guest Deadite," the audience member who gets transformed into a demon and delivers a line in the second act.

Actress Whitney Thomas Eads did my makeup that night.

"I've been having fun with the blood," she admitted as she dripped chocolate onto my face. It looked like she jacked me in the forehead with an ice pick.

Another nice undead lady then led me into the dark tunnel under the stage where we waited for my cue to pop out of the cellar and shout, "Look who's evil now!" As I huddled in the small space, a drop of blood ran down my face, and I couldn't help but lick it. Not bad.

The best part about my acting debut was after the show. My blood-bedazzled boyfriend and I went to the drive-thru on West Third Avenue in Harrison West. I looked ridiculous considering we're months from Halloween, but as I ordered beer with blackened, soulless eyes, the dude didn't even flinch.

"Eh, we see a lot of crazy stuff around here," he said with a laugh. "How was the show? I've been meaning to go see it."

Well, fearless gent, it's been so popular, CATCO-Phoenix has extended its run into July. Charge your chainsaw.