If you’ve ever wondered what it would look like if a middle school book report got possessed by a SyFy Channel marathon, Zombie Raccoons & Killer Bunnies is here to answer that question—with fangs, glowing eyes, and absolutely zero restraint.
Let’s start with the main stars of this design disaster: the zombie raccoon and the killer bunny. The raccoon, who looks like he just discovered eyeliner and vengeance in the same night, stares menacingly into the void with Photoshop-enhanced yellow eyes and a mouthful of questionable fangs. And then there’s the bunny, mid-scream—or mid-sneeze—depending on how generous you’re feeling. Its lower jaw appears to have been detached and reattached by someone using the lasso tool while blindfolded. If this rabbit is out for blood, it should first be out for dental correction.
The typography is less a design choice and more a cry for help in five fonts or less. “Zombie Raccoons” is screaming in a jagged red font that looks like it was ripped from a 2002 Halloween party flyer. “Killer Bunnies” goes for yellow slime lettering that says, “I’m edgy,” but whispers, “I’m sticky.” And the ampersand? It’s doing its own thing—delicately twirling in gold cursive like it just wandered in from a wedding invitation and is now deeply, deeply confused.
And let’s talk about the background—a blood-spattered purgatory featuring silhouetted zombies who look less threatening and more like they’re at a rave hosted in a cornfield. There’s no depth, no logic, and no apparent reason for their existence other than to remind you, once again, that this book wants to be scary but settled for silly.
The composition is chaos. There’s no hierarchy, no visual flow—just overlapping elements elbowing each other for attention like a horror-themed Black Friday sale. The title is fighting the animals. The animals are fighting perspective. And the layout is fighting for its life.
This cover isn’t just campy. It’s delirious. It’s what happens when parody meets poor Photoshop skills and they raise a litter of typo-fanged marsupials. Yes, the book is meant to be absurd. Yes, the title is intentionally ridiculous. But even deliberate camp deserves better than this fever dream of fur, fonts, and failure.
In the end, Zombie Raccoons & Killer Bunnies is a design that bites—but not in the way it intended. It’s less horror anthology and more haunted PowerPoint slide from a group project that got way out of hand.
And now we’ll be seeing that bunny’s face every time we try to sleep.
Thanks for that.