What are you gonna do

In the Post-Trumpocalypse.  The Apocalypse that arrives after Trump defeats Martin O'Malley in the general election and thus ushers in a new dark age, where the rivers run with blood and the sun is as sack cloth.

Apart from using a colander as a helmet and bits of tires as shoulder epaulet armor.  Naturally, there will be plenty of that.  Of course.

All this time I worried about the zombie horde only to come a cropper because of The Donald.  Still, he's better than Jeb.

The inauguration party didn't finish before cannibalism was rampant through NW Washington DC.  The rest of the world broke down into violent gangs, reminiscent of barbarian tribes and seemingly based on hazy generational memories of the Before Times.  The Loser ruled locally, and claimed to have been named by the great T-Man himself, and they worshiped him as a god.   Around the filth Chesapeake, the Monopoly Men ruled from atop their own tower.  Never look them in the monocle if you value your life.

Before Grampy was killed, he used to talk about the time before The Wall.  We laughed at him, the old fool!.  So hard to believe there ever could have been an era when the wall didn't exist, when every able-bodied man wasn't put to work building, repairing, and guarding the wall.  Rumor has it it started as only a wall along the Pecos river, but it extended along and encompassed first the borders between the states, then sections inside the states.

The wall prove prescient when giant monsters started emerging from the seas.