The Next Fight Brothers Game

As moonlight bounced off the greasy factory roof tiles, and thick, black smoke bellowed out of the chimneys and into the night, the workers inside the Dead Good Pizza company were wearily moping about their usual routines, unaware of the chaos they were about to bestow upon the World.

For ‘Old Pepe’, only a few hours away from completing his final shift as Chief Machine Operator and just minutes since his mid-shift retirement party, the 42 years he’d spent on the factory floor had simply taken too much of a toll. His withering arm creaked and trembled as he strained to extend the machine lever, breaking from his dusty torso as he exerted every last ounce of effort he could muster up. With no time or energy to shout out, the old fella jolted forward and parted with his limb forever.

The unfortunate momentum of his rickety frame, landed Old Pepe abruptly on his back atop the very same conveyer-belt that he’d painstakingly loaded with chunks of meat for the majority of his adult life, sending them on a journey towards a finely-sliced conclusion as concerningly low-grade pizza toppings.

With his colleagues none the wiser; Pepe passed through the same chemical-laden processing machines he’d maintained for over 40 years, completely undetected by the people he had shared cake with just a short while ago, arriving in perfect formation within packing crates, as thousands and thousands of blended, meaty discs.

But something, was very, very, wrong.

The meat… was not entirely dead…

The sun was rising as the massive iron gates securing the compound slammed shut behind the final delivery truck, leaving the factory on its way to some of the company’s many pizza shops across the land, carrying the infected pieces of poor Old Pepe towards their penultimate destination: the top of a Dead Good Pizza…