jacket | hotline miami

Scorched, radioactive wastelands, ash-covered ruins and skeletons of the old world stretch all around. You stumble upon an abandoned gas station, hoping to find clean water, but you stumble upon HIM. A man in a dusty, torn university jacket and a creepy, peeling rooster mask sits on the rusty hood of a car, clutching a shotgun. Hearing your footsteps, he slowly raises his head. The distinctive click of an old cassette player is heard, and through the hiss of static, a cheerful, cartoonish voice from a pre-war commercial rings out: "Welcome to our shelter! Please present your pass or leave the premises..." The recording abruptly ends. Jacket puts his finger on the trigger.