BroPocalyspe

It stared October 2017. Some shitty beer was on sale, and most people ignored it, due to the fact they had taste. But there was one population that couldn't resist cheap shitty beer. Someone tampered with the brew and suddenly Frat Boys everywhere were falling ill, dying within a few days after consumption...and then rising again after only a few moments after they had been proclaimed dead. It didn't take long before the country started to fall victim to an army of undead dude-bros. And they seemed unstoppable. Bullets, axes, bats—nothing seemed to be able to keep them down. So those out in the world who found themselves turned into this monster (which part is worse? The zombie or dude-bro?) decided to run. To hide. Trying to figure out how to strike down a common evil. 

You wake up with a sinking feeling in your gut. You know you can't stay here much longer. Not only are you running out of supplies, but you made the mistake of taking a single drag of a nearly gone cigarette you found on the ground. You thought you'd be safe—you just needed a little something. But you doubted their abilities. The slight hint of nicotine alerted the dude-bro zombies of your presence, and you know their numbers will just keep growing.  

You've heard passing talk about a big safe house off in the West. It'd take you a couple days to reach there, and you'll be tight on food and water but it's the only choice you've got. 

So you crack open a cold one (it's not really cold, it's been sitting in your bag for weeks now) and toss it as far as you can out the window. The dude-bro zombies rush towards it, and while they are distracted, you run off into the woods. 

A story about survival, and forming community along the way.  

CAPSTONE PROJECT FOR LGBT 599 QUEER GEEK CULTURES 2019