The Outpost was brimming with activity on a Friday night. While the rest of the towers were partying indoors, you were stuck taking out the trash and cleaning up the Outpost.

As you finished your grim chores and closed the dumpster, you heard footsteps. You froze.

You slowly looked up, expecting to see a nagging Commander here to tell you you're not doing good enough, or something— instead, it was a weary Zombie gnawing on a piece of cardboard.