We Hate Zombies

Scenario:
Like a badass, you have a game room in your basement oddly situated next to a bunch of tools across the room, including a crowbar, hacksaw, and some battery powered shit. Maybe you have a garage in your basement, maybe your wife just hates your things and wants it trapped in the downstairs, whatever. Also, you have a computer down there too, which you only ever use just for watching pr0n while you play a game of pool. Which is what you’re doing.

But then something in the back of your mind triggers a heightened sense of awareness, and you begin to hear the sounds of distant screaming. Oh baby, this is what you’ve always dreamt of, time for some action! Except you can hear they’re already in your house. And they’re already infecting your wife. Holy shit! They’re already coming down into your man cave and are between you and all your possible weapons! What do you do?

What you should do:
Pull your pants up and fasten your safety belt, cause it’s time to rock! As a reminder to everyone who doesn’t remember every word that I’ve ever preached, there’s no such thing as being separated from all possible weapons. As soon as you stand up, you should immediately become aware that all your junk no longer has meaning beyond what damage it can inflict on an infected rotten turd muncher.

At your desk, you understand the world is over and that the computer will soon lose power forever. First weapon: the computer. Without a computer, the desk is nothing. Second weapon: the desk. Then you realize you don’t have time to sit down anymore. Third weapon: the chair. And you never really played pool anyway cause you suck really bad at it. Fourth weapon: pool sticks, the cue ball, America.

Without knowing the meaning of fear, you should smash that sticky keyboard into the teeth of the first blood-thirsty zombie, knocking him backward onto his ass. Then throw the chair across the room and trip up the three zombies still coming down the stairs. The pool balls are worthless to you, but grab two pool sticks and overturn the table onto the toothless downed dead bastard still struggling to get up.

Two wooden spears in hand, all that’s left is to dance a dance of everlasting death, spearing the lifeless eyes of those cursed fuckers until you reach your wall o’ tools. I won’t even list the different weapons you’ve suddenly found for yourself, but I think you won’t have any trouble cleaning up this mess and getting the hell out of Dodge.

What I would do:
No ex-Major League pitcher turned nine ball pro would be able to resist spinning onto the pool table and beaming zombies straight in the face with a rack of balls…which is exactly what I would do. For a little bit anyway, because it would be fun, like Shaun of the Dead throwing records at zombies kind of fun. I guess what I’m trying to say is Family Fun. Unlike what was on the computer.

After having my bit of fun, the rage would inevitably settle back in, and there would be nothing left to hold back my wrath. Any zombie still standing would immediately get a face full of CRT monitor, followed by a desk full-body-slamming. Keep in mind that none of these things are likely to put a zombie down for the count, at least not like poking them through the eye with a wooden stake, but it helps me control my penchant for burning fury — by adding gas to the flames.

Immediately I would begin dismantling my stairs one board at a time, taking each one and beating the moving corpses until it splintered into fragments and the sons of dead, motherless goats really stopped moving for good. The blood and gore would be epic and fascinating, the kind of phenomenon mathematicians might someday study for fractal splatter analysis.

I would probably need to take a shower, then run to the nearest Taco Bell and see if they had been overrun yet. Booyah! Say hello to my Burrito baby.

Thanks to Tyler for submitting this scenario.

Title: Hungry Are The Dead (click to play)
Style: Side Shooter
Source: ???

Well, I haven’t done this in a while. No, I’m not going to apologize. Nonetheless, a game review, for you, by me.

Hungry Are The Dead was one of those games that has a great sounding title but a weak delivery. The graphics weren’t so hot, but I can forgive that. I muted the speakers, like always, so I didn’t hear any sound. The gameplay was cookie-cutter standardized second story window shooting, so nothing terribly innovative or what not. There were options to upgrade weaponry and barricades and so on, but we’ve seen that before.

The first time I played the game I was manslaughtered. I didn’t like it, I didn’t take it like a champ. I scrambled around clicking and slamming the keyboard and cursing, frothing at the mouth and bleeding from my pores. Why did I die right away? Because I didn’t read the damned instructions that say you reload by clicking on the pile of ammo. Oh, and you only get one bullet.

This is dumb. Maybe a nice idea in theory, but super dumb for a game. It’s like wasting your time, like making out with a hot chick and not slamming the pony. Pointless, to a point. Think about it, you have to click the ammo pile to reload, but you have to use the mouse to aim and shoot. Why put us through the trouble of moving our mouse off the enemies to reload? More lifelike? We don’t play games to live life, we play games to kill zombies that don’t exist yet.

Dammit anyway.

Still, I had fun. Shooting zombies in the head is always fun, and I liked the laser on the rifle thing. Made me feel like a newb, but also like a super-soldier. Or something. Damn I’m tired, I need to start drinking more.

Game Score:

Graphics:		2.5
Sound:		?
Fun Factor:		2.5
Satisfaction:		2
Total:

Scenario:
To help you train for the great zombie apocalypse, you decide to enter into a half-marathon because you’ve calculated that it takes approximately 13 miles for you to escape the city by a safe route on foot.  So, as it usually goes, you need some competition to boost your quest for the long distance run and you pay a little bit to be lured into a dangerous place full of people with only the hope of food and beer at the end.  Of course it would be the tenth mile when the zombies strike, and all around you are people half-dead from the run or completely dead but moving no slower.  Also, you’re tired as shit.  What do you do?

What you should do:
Obviously the first step is to get off the path.  The zombies will be quickly attracted to the sweat and stink of the runners, so there will quickly be a swarm of zombies all over the damn place.  You need to get off as soon as possible, then search for other means of escape.  Your plan to run out of the city has backfired and now you’re too tired to even swing a bat hard enough to crack an egg.

Of course, you can always try to find a car, and depending on what part of the run it is you might get lucky, but around here the cars tend to be cleared out a bit so runners don’t suffer from the exhaust poisoning.  However, one secret few realize is that there are golf carts used by race officials to haul off those too weak to move themselves.  Find one of those and you’re practically home free, assuming you can keep zombies off your grille long enough to get out of the area.  Good luck with that.

What I would do:
There’s no point starting something you’re not going to finish, and after having come 10 miles there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t finish that race.  The first thing I would do is keep on running, and through this strategy the zombies behind me won’t be able to catch up.  Then, when zombies come up in front of me, I’ll jump kick them in the chest and knock them down, or at least until I find some sort of club or blunt weapon or what not.

That will be a good day, running and jump kicking for 2 miles, enough to kill a man.  And you know what I would find at the end?  Not beer and hot dogs but more fucking zombies, just to say hello and congratulations and pat me on the back like Judas and Brute.  You’re probably thinking to yourself, Brute?  No, not Brute, but you have to imagine that little thing on the “e”, as in “et tu Brute.”  Dammit, leave me alone, I’m too busy to post twice a week let alone find out how to make that damn “e.”  Whatever.

At the end there’s nothing left to do but use the detonator on my watch to explode the bombs I hid along the route and particularly at the end.  I would get far enough away, of course, but I’d still like to see the explosion.  Sucks for everyone else that didn’t die yet, but atleast I won’t have to worry about them coming  back to nibble on my calf.  Which would be cramping.

Good day to you sir!

Scenario:
You’re raking your leaves like any normal person would do. Just when you finish and the pile is at its highest, your kid runs over and obliterates the entire mess. All you can say is, “Goddamn it Frank, why do you always have to do that? Cut that shit out!” As Frank runs back into the house, screaming with glee, you continue to rake. Once again, the pile reaches its full height, towering over you in triumph. Again, the comes falling down. This time it isn’t Frank. It’s the neighbor kids and the leaves simply got in the way. What they want is you and your precious non-zombie flesh. What do you do?

What you should do:
Well, since they are zombies, you know that you have to destroy their brains in order to completely nullify the situation. However, the neighbors may not realize the situation, which can cause problems when they find out that you killed their kids for what may have seemed like knocking down a pile of leaves. Approach this carefully.

If their parents are being good parents, knock them over and run inside. Somewhere, the parents are watching and when they see this, they will come running over to give you a piece of their mind. The idea here is to get them to see the danger that the kids now pose or to just have them get infected when their child bites off a finger. Either way, you can bum-rush the zombies from your home and let them have it. And by it, I mean the business end of your shotgun.

If the parents are not good parents, they aren’t watching what their kids are doing and won’t see anything. Again, knock the kids over with the rake and run inside. Get on the phone and call the parents. Tell them that their kids are acting strange and tried to bite you while you were raking your leaves. They won’t believe you, but they will come and get their kids when you threaten to shoot them if they don’t leave. Again, the situation should pretty much solve itself when you introduce the shotgun.

If for some reason you cannot get their parents on the phone, then you have only one choice. Shoot the children in their adorable zombie faces and throw them in a barrel of homemade napalm. Then spend the next couple of hours burning the leaves you just raked as a cover story for the large fire that won’t go out. The kid’s parents will be destroyed with grief and may take their own lives, but sacrifices must be made if the name of the game is zombies. Think about how many people you saved and everything should be all right.

What I would do:
Like a good neighbor, I always have my hedge trimmer within arm’s reach. I would waste no time in dispatching the zombie. If the parents are watching, I will just dispatch them as well. If any other neighbors are watching, dispatched. If the body count is high enough, I will just have to load up the old pickup and take a trip to the quarry. Otherwise, I like the smell of napalm in the morning.

Scenario:
Well, you can’t always save the world and you can’t always crush the zombie revolution before it gets out of control. Now it’s July, and there are damned zombies everywhere, and you haven’t made it anywhere safe yet because you weren’t ready in time. Now you’re stuck traveling on foot because the roads are shit and there’s no one left to scrape ‘em clean. Zombies - a constant danger that must be destroyed or out-run, and sometimes the toll on your group is greater than just losing a guy you didn’t really like anyway. Every night the threat is great and looming, and you have to find shelter and safety before you can’t see them coming. What do you do?

What you should do:
Realize that every hidden corner could have a zombie lurking, waiting, hungering. You don’t just run into a house and call it safe. You don’t run into a house at all, because you don’t know what’s around the corner or under the bed until you look, and just looking is dangerous enough. This is why you have to learn how to estimate risks quickly and from a distance.

There are only a few relatively safe places in a world swarming with zombies. One is high up in a strong tree, where they won’t be able to hear you or see your or grab your ankle and bite you. Sadly, trees make you suffer if you ever make a mistake, if you ever fall or make too much noise or roll over in your sleep. That’s why trees suck, so the only good idea is to find a house or barn or shelter of some sort.

Which is why you have to be able to assess risk. Trees are transparent, easy. Houses, apartment buildings, malls, etc., are all full of places zombos could hide. But, sometimes you can have a good idea of whether a building is empty or not. For instance, if you see two cars in the driveway, or if you see blood on the door, or if you see a broken window, or anything out of place at all.

Once you find a place, you have to sweep it, make sure it’s empty. That’s not too hard as long as you have the firepower to act quickly and forcefully. If you just have a frying pan and a broom stick, maybe your first night should be spent at a sporting good store. Once the house is clean, it’s time to fortify it. Use any wood you can find to cover the windows and block the doors. Use the stronger wood for the more exposed entrances, like the front door or living room windows. A table is usually a good idea. Try to keep the noise down though.

Finally, once the house is sealed, find a safe place to hide, such as in the attic or in the top of a closet, preferrably some place out of reach or hard to get to. If zombies break in, you should at least have the high-ground. If you were quiet and didn’t leave a mark, maybe the zombies will never know you were there. But I doubt it.

What I would do:
If you’re like me, then you probably like to play video games. A lot. And maybe you play video games when you should be writing articles to help save peoples’ lives. Maybe you, like me, realize the irony that those who need this information most are the exact people who will never read it. That’s why I like shooting games where the main idea is pretty much just to kill everything.

Well, sometimes I get into a pickle and find myself surrounded because I tried to save time or ammo by skipping a few bad guys here and there. Next thing I know, I’m dead! Well, unlike real life and disgustingly like zombies, I get to come back from the dead, so to speak, and play another life. Woo for me. I feel dirtier every time.¹

What am I getting at here? Learn your lessons when you can afford to learn the hard way. For instance, when I’m deer hunting, I could walk into the middle of the forest and kill only the one deer that comes my way, but with a little more time and ammo I could do it right and kill every deer in the forest. That way I don’t have to worry about being pawed to death in my sleep.

The same principle applies to zombie survival. I travel in the morning. Around noon, I eat some lunch. After lunch, I take a piss, then I get my guns out and I spiral out from a safe central location. From here I set fire to houses, buildings, whatever, and shoot every zombie I see until I’ve cleared a perimeter of a shit ton of land. Once I’ve killed all the zombies that might threaten me, I can sleep like a baby in my safe zone.

You can use tequila for more than just a night-cap you know.

¹ That’s what she said.