The joke is that the apocalypse is adorable, and you're not allowed to solve it with violence. Every survivor is one cuddle away from becoming the thing hunting them, which means the real horror is resisting something designed to make you want to lose. It's a post-apocalyptic survival story where the only winning move is staying cold to something that purrs at you, and the comedy never stops grinding that knife.
A pandemic has turned most of humanity into cats. Not metaphorically. An actual virus spreads through physical contact, transforming people into adorable, infectious felines that hunger to spread their condition further. The twist that breaks every survival story rule: these transformed cats are irresistibly cute, making self-defense nearly impossible when your enemy wants nothing more than affection. A ragtag band of cat lovers and pragmatists barricade themselves against the expanding feline horde, torn between survival instinct and the overwhelming urge to pet every single threat that comes their way. Every cuddle means infection. Every moment of weakness could mean joining the very creatures hunting them. The show balances genuine post-apocalyptic tension with absurdist humor, finding comedy in the collision between horror-film logic and the reality that your greatest enemy is objectively adorable. It's a genre mashup that takes the zombie outbreak seriously while never forgetting that the undead shambling toward you have little pink toe beans and purr when they're happy. Dark, hilarious, and completely committed to the bit.