Trailer Trash Apocalypse Crown of the Holler

A rusted tire iron, no pants, and a crown he never asked for. The apocalypse picked the wrong redneck.

Timothy Ferguson was finally having a good day until the universe decided to reboot. One minute he was “negotiating” back rent with his gorgeous neighbor; the next, a glowing blue screen informed him that his latent Longshanks bloodline had activated and now all the ladies of the Trailer Park have decided their new King looks best in his birthday suit.

He didn’t ask to be the Sovereign Lord of the Beaver Creek Hollow, and he certainly didn’t mean to skip the six-month survival tutorial for the entire kingdom just because he was screaming “YES” at the wrong moment.

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