You'll be happy to know that all of the survivors from Necropolis, of which there were far too many, have been accepted into the same university! This is the single greatest fucking moment of my life since “Saved by the Bell: The College Years”. Jesus fuck me gently with a chainsaw my life can't suck this much. Can it? Katie's dead, if you'll recall, but she's been replaced by a girl named Jenny, a biology major. Her brother Jeremy, played by Romanian pop idol Cain Manoli, is a drugged out DJ. In case you've succeeded in forgetting the other players, you've got Julian (the star), Cody (the hacker), and Becky (the pigtailed girl). And hilarity ensues as they go wild! Wooooooo! Show us your tits! Yeaaaah! Coeds are so much fucking fun you'd think there'd be more movies on the subject...

Good ol' Uncle Charlie decides to sell off the Trioxin-5 he smuggled from HybraTech. He meets some shady Interpol agents in a parking lot, but before they cough up the money, they demand to test it. Good thing they are in the parking lot of a morgue! How lucky can this narrative be? Fuck me... Anyway, the Trioxin works, zombies eat people, who the fuck saw that coming, right? Fucking Interpol. Uncle Charlie is among the fallen.

Grief-stricken Julian breaks into his uncle's house and discovers a canister of Trioxin, but he can't figure out what it is. It's goddamn fortunate that Cody not only knows everything there is to know about chemistry, but he also has full (and apparently unsupervised) access to the university's labs! He runs some tests and determines that it is structurally similar to methylenedioxy. For those of you that haven't fried yourselves fucking stupid (as I have), that's MDMA. That's right kids, the series' mythology is again being rabidly fucked like a cheap, junkie whore. Ecstasy brings the dead back to life. Jeremy drinks a flask of the solution and trips his balls off. Cody and company decide to manufacture pills, which they call Z, and proceed to sell hundreds around campus. Easy money. Totally harmless. No trouble whatsoever. None.

Trouble is, Z turns you – fucking get this, right? - into a goddamn zombie! Holy shit! No! Oh yeah, and there's a big Hallowe'en rave. Forgot about that part. It's called – fucking get this – “Rave to the Grave”, and Jeremy is the star DJ. So, flash forward through a bunch of nonsensical plot twists and silly cartoon antics and you have a bunch of kids getting down like it's 1999. Of course, everyone is high and sweaty (and sexy) and slowly but surely, they turn into zombies. The straight edge fuckers are fine... until they're eaten by the zombies. Oops. Live fast, die young, leave a beautiful reanimated corpse. Fucking kill me.

No really. Kill me. Just for the love of dog, whatever you do, do not bring me back. Even in undeath I'd have a hard time tolerating this steaming monkey turd. While this floppy fecal monstrosity is significantly less watery and disease-ridden than Necropolis, it is nowhere near safe for human consumption. You could gargle with antifreeze and the taste of this sapid cocktail would linger. Really, if you have nothing better to do, why not dig up a nice-looking corpse and have a go with it. In the end, you'll both hurt a lot less.