Zombies on the MOOP line

Hello out there — if anyone is out there.

The Hun here, reporting from Reno where the ghosts and ghouls and glamorously undead have taken over the town. So far I’m safe here, barricaded in my house with eleven guns and a month’s supply of candy. But OMG! How I regret not warning you all weeks ago, when maybe we could’ve stopped this from happening. I should said something. But I kept it a secret, and now we’re all paying the price.

It may be too late for the truth to help things, but here we go. It started way back in August, when Stinger rolled into Gerlach with an angry-looking lump on her jaw.

She said it was a bee sting, and we all believed her. Maybe it really was a bee sting — but from what kind of bee? Even with medication, the lump didn’t heal. It just grew bigger, and blacker.

After a while, Stinger disappeared. We all figured she’d gone to the hospital to get that gigantic infected wound taken care of.

But then, a few days before the end of Playa Restoration, it happened. When the MOOP line showed up for work, Stinger was there. I don’t know how she got out to the desert; maybe she walked there. The lump was gangrenous and putrid, and it had eaten half her face. She didn’t seem to notice. She seemed… well, she seemed an awful lot like a zombie.

And then the worst happened: She attacked.

taking Deadpan unawares.

Deadpan was no match for Stinger’s animal strength, and after a particularly long night at the bar, the rest of the crew was equally slow to react. Stinger ran down the MOOP line, seizing hapless DPW and gnawing at their faces. They tried to fight her off, but she was fast and strong, and we were all in shock.

Finally, in a fit of heroics, Weldboy lured her to the bus and shut the door behind them both. What followed was pure horror. We all watched, weeping, as she tore Weldboy to bits, splattering his guts across the windows.

None of us were brave enough to open the door and try to save him. Weldboy gave his life trying to save the DPW.

After that, nothing seemed right any more. We all regrouped at the Black Rock Saloon, trying in vain to heal our wounded friends. But no matter what we did, those wounds just wouldn’t heal. They didn’t seem to bleed, either: they just grew blacker and more putrid by the minute.

For the first time ever, Shotgunn's chest was not fun to look at.

By dinner time, the wounded were starting to act funny. They tore at the turkey dinner with ferocity…

Surly's face looked as bad as his dinner.

The light left their eyes, and they began to shuffle around the bar aimlessly.

Flophouse couldn't find his way home.
Johnny Lingus wouldn't serve a single drink.

And if you got too close, they would start to snarl and gnash their teeth.

Do NOT try to talk to D.A. about work after hours.

By now, it was pretty clear we were in the midst of a zombie invasion. Luckily, we DPW think of ourselves as the kind of people who can handle any type of situation. And so, the next morning, the Special Forces crew fitted themselves out to kill some zombies.

Vaughn Solo, zombie killer.

Meanwhile, the rest of us ushered our half-undead friends to the MOOP line. They weren’t violent, not yet; just dazed. Some of them didn’t seem to know anything was wrong.

Blindman was downright chipper.
Monica, easy and breezy.

I swear, some of them thought they were still at Burning Man.

Darlin' was ready for the disco rave.
Dear Mom, DPW is great.

Before long, the sun seemed to warm their blood. Suddenly our friends quickened their pace. They began to moan and growl, lurching toward those of us who were still alive.

Sissybitch and Bad Ash, making the Nevada Dept. of Transportation look rather bad.

We started to think we might not be alive much longer. Time was running out, and our friends were fixin’ to eat our brains. Where were the zombie killers?

Nice and Voted Best Dave, no longer so cute.

But then! Just as our hopes were fading, plumes of dust arose on the horizon. Our saving grace, the zombie killers were coming!

the cavalry approaches

They rode in on work trucks, brandishing what weapons they had.

Vaughn's weapon: pure fear. And a MOOP stick.
Izzi and Rest Stop Buddy were eager to do some killin'.

A totally ridiculous battle ensued.

Sadly, Izzi, Rahna and Bustin Dustin all died.

Yes, we lost some lives — but the zombie killers emerged victorious. The playa was covered in blood and guts. We all felt invigorated. We’d saved the world!

Johnny Fluffy Snuffy Glitter Kitten Boo Bastard Hearts Rainbows 'n' Unicorns enjoys the sweet taste of victory

But there was one thing we did wrong. After the battle, we MOOPed the area, dismembered the bodies and sank them to the bottom of Double Hot. Except for two.

All along, Bad Ash and White Linus had been more interested in sucking on each other’s faces than eating anybody’s brains. Their zombie love was so pure and beautiful, nobody could stand to kill them. They didn’t seem like a danger to anyone. So we let them wander off into the desert together.

Zombie love.

And now here I sit, with the windows and doors boarded up, feeling like the biggest idiot who ever walked the earth. Sure, I can sit here for a month eating candy with the curtains drawn — but what then? Why couldn’t we have ended the zombie horror there in the Black Rock Desert?

I don’t know for sure whether Ash and Linus are the cause of a massive zombie outbreak. Heck, I don’t even know if there are zombies outside of Nevada. All I know is that I’m sorry, and I hope we didn’t unwittingly cause the eradication of the human race.

If anybody is out there reading this, please know we didn’t mean it. We did the best we could, but in the end we were doin’ it wrong. From my own personal dungeon, this is The Hun signing off.

PS: Just kidding. Special effects makeup artists Nikki Becker, Lucky Wilson and Janis Lokke came and painted us all up for free. We definitely did stage a zombie war for play pretend, but there was no real violence. Except Weldboy. Stinger ate him.

PPS: Wanna see all the zombie photos? They are here: Burning Man DPW Zombies 2011.

About the author: The Hun

The Hun

The Hun, also known as J.H. Fearless, has been blogging for Burning Man (and many other outlets) since 2005, which is also the year she joined the BRC DPW on a whim that turned out to be a ten-year commitment. Since then she's won some awards for blogging, built her own creative business, and produced some of the Burning Blog's most popular stories and series. She co-created a grant-funded art piece, "Refoliation," in 2007, and stood next to it watching the Man burn on Monday night during a full lunar eclipse. She considers that, in many ways, to have been the symbolic end of Burning Man that was. The Hun lives in Reno with DPW Shade King, Quiet Earp. You may address her as "The Hun" or "Hun". If you call her "Honey" she reserves the right to cut you.

4 Comments on “Zombies on the MOOP line

  • Andrew MacLachlan says:


    Report comment

  • Katie Slocum says:

    Awwwww this is so awesome! I love the creativity. Zombies on the plaayyyaaa!

    Report comment

  • Dusty Bacon says:

    Greetings from New York. This is a great piece of journalizm but alas too little too late. There has been a zombie outbreak amongst the occupiers of Wall Street. Major news agencies are claiming it was due to unsanitary conditions. Whatever the original cause, Manhattan is now devoid of life as we know it. We survivors have fled up the river Hudson to the Westpoint fortress but are not sure how much longer we can last as the zombies have followed us and despite weeks of mowing them down with the weapons at our disposal the population of the five boroughs coupled with New Jersey is just too massive. We are without hope of rescue. Just kidding. FUN!!!

    Report comment

  • margaret says:

    this is very great article , the best great is all the pictures that appeared on this blogs i love watching this article ever

    Report comment

  • Comments are closed.