As has so often been the case, the members of the Funhouse Stripper found each other through the course of a tragedy. That event took place four years ago at a resort near Cancun, Mexico. Known internally as the Yucatan Outbreak, a small amount of the Lipscomb-Takashi virus was released into the local drinking water by an as of yet unknown individual or organization.
The infection spread rapidly through the native population. Those not exposed to the tainted water supply were quickly swarmed by the bloodthirsty hoard. Our local response assets were able to establish a perimeter with the help of local authorities preventing a more catastrophic and widespread pandemic.
As per classified World Health Organization SOP, no incursions were made in to the red zone to look for survivors. The known infectious cycle burns itself out in a confined region within 20 days.
At the time the first reports of infected came in David, CT, Karen and the Tanabe brothers were vacationing in a group of privately owned, remote beachfront cottages south of the city proper. According to their statements to our investigating agents they were largely insulated from the violence for the first 48 hours. Their fist sign of trouble came in the form of a drifting ferry from Isla Mujeres that floated by their beach on the afternoon of the second day. That night the first of the dead came crashing through the jungle.
The first small wave of infected were successfully dispatched with a few improvised weapons: boat oars, tequila bottles, an old wrench. Soon, however, as the death toll rose in the city, the numbers of walking dead moving south became more than they could fend off directly.
For a week the group held out, barricaded in the second floor of one of the cottages. Laying low kept them safe for ten days, until they exhausted their supplies. Their strategy was successful in preventing a horde of infected from congregating around their makeshift fort. On the eleventh day they were forced to leave in search of supplies.
They could see the smoke from the fires to the north and decided to try their luck to the south. They did their best to avoid the roads, reasoning that the infected would tend to move along the path of least resistance. The sound of them tramping through the bush would also give them warning of any approach. They had to move slowly to avoid making their own noise and attracting the dead.
Several miles south they found themselves in the middle of an evacuated, five star resort. They managed to dispatch the few zombies they encountered on the ground and began to explore the facilities. The hotel showed hasty signs of flight. Luggage, clothes, and toiletries were scattered everywhere. Doors were left open and the furniture in the lobby was all askew. A number of bodies, both infected and what appeared to be guests, were piled near the main swimming pool.
They explored the grounds of the resort and discovered a cache of pistols and shotguns in the security office. Combined with the two M-16 rifles they salvaged from an abandoned Police car they found themselves suddenly well armed against the threat. Fortifying themselves with provisions from the hotel kitchen, together they again barricaded themselves on the top floor of the resort building.
They were surprisingly comfortable in the in the luxury suites there. The previous occupants hadn’t cleaned after themselves, but the water and sewage lines continued to function throughout the crisis and the electricity was available sporadically. They also found a number of abandoned instruments. For the next week they wiled away their time noodling around on the guitars, playing together and writing songs. These formed the backbone of what they later recorded and released as the “Flophouse EP”.
After ten days their food supplies were once again exhausted. This could not have happened at a worse time. The zombie numbers were at their peak and the daily grind of repelling attacks only served to attract more with the sound of every gunshot.
On the 11th day in the hotel they had run out of time. An enormous mob of the infected were crowding around the base of the hotel, overwhelming their barricades in the lobby and stairwells. They needed to escape, but there was no way to get past the dead. They had nearly given up, playing music together one last time when a plan was hatched.
Together they carried the guitars, amps, basses and drums up to the roof of the building. They found a hot electrical socket and plugged everything in. They turned up all the amps to 11. It was the loudest they had ever dared to play.
The effect was immediate. The crowd of infected below grew more and more agitated. In their blind lust to find the source of the noise they crushed through the ground floor windows, and bowled over the barricades and began streaming up the stairs. After seven songs most of the zombies had managed to squeeze themselves inside the hotel. The Funhouse Strippers had the opening they needed.
They left their instruments feeding back and cast ropes over the side of the building. They began to repel down 20 floors just as the first of the infected managed to burst through the roof access door. On the ground they quickly dispatched a few stragglers and tossed half a dozen Molotov cocktails after the zombies into the hotel lobby.
There was nothing left to do but make a run for it. They set out south as fast as they could. Their diversion had worked beautifully; with most of the infected in the burning hotel they were not attacked again. They continued cautiously on the main road until running across our security cordon.
They were held until it could be verified they were free from infection. Following their debrief, they were relocated to Salem, OR and instructed not to speak of their ordeal. They recorded the set that saved their lives and released it as their first record. They continued to play together, having since released a full length CD and they are working on a new LP as we speak. As much as they would like to leave their time in Mexico behind them, they are still the largest group known to have survived a Lipscomb-Takashi outbreak and continue to be the favorite resource for analysts tasked with studying the virus.
the Funhouse Strippers – Zombie
