No Guts. No Gory.

A diorama. A death scene. A blood-splattered shrine to chaos, horror, and hilarity. 

From the depths of the craft stash crypt rises a brutal miniature wasteland where action figures meet the undead in a gloriously absurd showdown. This isn't just a diorama, it's a twisted altar to the cheesy zombie flicks we secretly (or not so secretly) adore. With every brushstroke on these pint-sized corpses, a riotous new scene is born, fusing horror and comedy into one gore-soaked giggle. 

This tray may hold your keys and wallet, but it also holds a piece of your wild, wicked imagination. No Guts. No Gory. is the launchpad of a savage series built for laughter, screams, and brutal little masterpieces. Where heavy metal meets hobby craft and decapitated hilarity reigns supreme.

Crawler Zombitch - the slime-slick antihero this tray of terror never asked for but absolutely needed.

Dragged halfway to hell and still kicking (well, crawling), this gruesome goon slithers out from behind a busted-up first aid station, clearly offended that gauze won't fix his appetite. Armed with the sickest of sneers and a hunger for cranial cuisine, he's on a shameless quest for lunch...

dignity be damned.

Suzie-QT - the undead debutante with killer style and zero chill for sweatpants.

Before the world turned to rot, Susan was all pearls, pagentry, and five-star brunches. Now? She's gliding through the apocalypse with high-fashion horror and a no-smudge lipstick stronger than any quarantine protocol. 

There's blood on the runway, baby, and Suzie-QT struts it like it's Paris Fashion Week. 

never underestimate the tactical power of a stiletto to the cranium. Grace under gore, glam under pressure. Don't just survive, accessorize.

Dave - The man, the myth, the misfortunate.

He was trying to enjoy a stale granola bar and doomscroll the apocalypse in peace, when fate dropped him into a grade-A shitstorm. 

Surrounded by flesh-munching creepers Dave's got one goal: survive this mess with his sarcasm intact and his spleen un-nibbled. 

The Cannibal Carnage King - His throne is made of ribs, and his crown drips in guts.

Entrails slurp like spaghetti, splattering around him as he gleefully rips out bite-sized justice, swinging organs like a sword.

It's an all-you-can-eat buffet in the bowels of Armageddon.

More coming soon...