Hoboken Steve 2

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(Created page with 'Spooked by the violent display, you rush out the door, through the restaurant, and onto the streets of the city. Decrepit whorehouses and parking lots full of garbage trucks blot…')
 
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Spooked by the violent display, you rush out the door, through the restaurant, and onto the streets of the city. Decrepit whorehouses and parking lots full of garbage trucks blot out your view of the smog-filled horizon. The street is bustling as, full of prostitutes, crack dealers, and mafia honchos, several of whom are being slain by drive-by gunmen at this very moment. You can feel in your bones that the usual state of affairs in Hoboken belies a great and terrible evil, just waiting to erupt into the world. As an ardent videogame enthusiast, you know that the zombie apocalypse has begun.  
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Spooked by the violent display, you rush out the door, through the restaurant, and onto the streets of the city. Decrepit whorehouses and parking lots full of garbage trucks blot out your view of the smog-filled horizon. The street is bustling, full of prostitutes, crack dealers, and mafia honchos, several of whom are being slain by drive-by gunmen at this very moment. You can feel in your bones that the usual state of affairs in Hoboken belies a great and terrible evil, just waiting to erupt into the world. As an ardent videogame enthusiast, you know that the zombie apocalypse has begun.  
As you consider your course of action, a boozey vagrant carrying a bloody headband, a pair of fingerless gloves, dual desert eagles and a case chock full of battle-ready Molotov cocktails collapses near you.  
As you consider your course of action, a boozey vagrant carrying a bloody headband, a pair of fingerless gloves, dual desert eagles and a case chock full of battle-ready Molotov cocktails collapses near you.  

Current revision as of 18:54, 1 August 2010

Spooked by the violent display, you rush out the door, through the restaurant, and onto the streets of the city. Decrepit whorehouses and parking lots full of garbage trucks blot out your view of the smog-filled horizon. The street is bustling, full of prostitutes, crack dealers, and mafia honchos, several of whom are being slain by drive-by gunmen at this very moment. You can feel in your bones that the usual state of affairs in Hoboken belies a great and terrible evil, just waiting to erupt into the world. As an ardent videogame enthusiast, you know that the zombie apocalypse has begun.

As you consider your course of action, a boozey vagrant carrying a bloody headband, a pair of fingerless gloves, dual desert eagles and a case chock full of battle-ready Molotov cocktails collapses near you.

Now you're in business.

A few ideas on what to do next cross your mind. Your first instinct is to go back to your shabby apartment, board it up, and wait until this all blows over. You also consider seeking out your friend Joe, who's a paranoid madman. If anyone's prepared for this, it'll be him, and at the very least, you know he owns several weapons which he knows his way around. Then again, it might be safest to flee Hoboken altogether.

What the Hell now?

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