Ways to Die in the Apocalypse, 3: Shameless Money-Grab Edition

running a gauntlet of a thousand kitchen knives created by your new overlord, dancing across hot coals to amuse your new child-king, caught distributing contraband internet memes printed on the backs of torn out book pages, consumed with fear you stay crouched in a corner until you’re too weak to move in search of food, consumed with fear you run right into the center of the fray, consumed with fear you run until you’re lost and you never find out what it is you were running from, slowly drained of blood by hungry monsters/aliens/the new ruling class of vampires/the new ruling class of Priests, lowered into a vat of acid over the course of a week to please the gods of the New Priests, defenestrated by a jealous friend after finally escaping the zombies in a tree house in a remote northern locale, drawn and quartered by strong men like in a tractor pull as punishment  for stealing a slice of bread from your benevolent New President’s personal stores,

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