We Hate Zombies

Scenario:
You wake up.  You’re in the middle of a field, naked, without anything, without even the zombie killing tools you always keep on you.  You get up, dust off, and look around.  There’s a town not far off, so you decide to head that way to find clothes, food, and weapons, hoping to make it before the sun burns your hide.  Problem is, you don’t recognize the town, and you can’t see or hear a person anywhere.  That is, unless you count the zombies.  What do you do?

What you should do:
The only place you know is the field you woke up in.  Not that you really know it, but at least you know where it is, and the flat land gives you a chance to spy zombies.  My first suggestion?  Get back to someplace you know, and that means going back to the field.

Will there be weapons there?  No.  Will there be a place to hide?  Obviously not.  Will you have a chance to look around and see what’s coming slowly at you?  Yes.  Will you have time to sit down, and look up into the sky, searching for animals in the clouds and thinking about the parents that abandoned you?  Don’t be an ass.

Of course, I’m assuming you’ll find a farm house nearby, and you’ll find yourself wondering why you didn’t go there first.  And in the barn or house, you’ll find some weapons strikingly similar to the zombie weapons you apparently left at home.  And, as you can probably imagine, these weapons will be sharp and well taken care of, because farmers don’t run around whacking the heads off things without a sharp blade.  (I’ve heard farmers do this though, a lot.  Like, all the time!)

Still, if you go outside to slay some zombies with a scythe, just remember to put on clothes.  Or sunblock.  Nothing would be worse than fighting zombies with a sunburn on your ass.

What I would do:
Of course I don’t know much about farming, but I know a thing or two about driving and levers, so I can imagine that once I find a combine I’ll be able to drive it at least as well as a 6 year old farm boy.

Once I have the combine, it’s only a matter of time until I sow the fields with the blood of the undead.  In a few more months, I’ll be harvesting some rotten cotton, just to weave a tapestry of my awesomeness for the sake of burning, because I hate zombies and I won’t have no zombiedom in my house!

Alternatively, if I didn’t feel quite liquored up enough to kill zombies in sufficient style, I might just find a bike or something and ride on toward the next town, hoping to find more room to get drunk again, or else a map to find my way back to my end-of-the-world fortress.  Whichever.

Thanks to James for submitting this scenaro.

Scenario:
You live in the middle of the United States and its freaking cold outside. Seriously, it is like, 30 something outside all the time now and it was just 90 a few weeks ago. WTF is that all about anyway? I want some goddamn answers here. I am tired of playing by the Man’s rules and I want it to be warm and pleasant. Cough, Cough. Sorry, sometimes I get a little pissed off about how cold it is and how much I hate it. Anyway, its cold as week old shit and you are in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse. You are in a mall and are about to head out into the world on foot because the world ran out of gas. What do you do?

What you should do:
Make a list of important things that you need to have with you at all times. This is important because you are only going to have things with you at all times, nothing more and nothing less. There is no vehicle to help carry stuff and you need to survive long enough to reach warmer climates. Making a list will help eliminate emotion and maximize logic in what you take and what you don’t.

The obvious things on the lists are warm clothes. No, you don’t need more than one change of clothes so don’t even think about it. You need to make sure you have a couple of pairs of socks so that you can keep your feet warm and dry. This is important because Bear Grylls says so. Also, make sure you have a hat or some sort to keep your head warm. You will lose most of your body heat through your head, so stock up.

Once you have that figured out, work on the essentials. Don’t stock up on canned food and water like a moron. Get a map of the area so that you know where to find water and pick up some supplies to obtain your own food and cook it. I would suggest checking with anyone in the mall who is homeless. They know what you need to survive. A cooking tin, a pocket knife, some flint and a compass would be a great way to start. These are all very useful tools in the wild.

Once that is all said and done, get something good to eat and stuff yourself. It may be a few days before you can stop and set up a camp and have a nice meal. I would recommend taking some bread and cheese with you on your trip solely because it will stay edible for a long time and it will provide you with some carbs, fats, and proteins which are all necessary to stay not dead. Plus, it is simple and quick to prepare and it doesn’t weigh a lot like canned foods do.

What I would do:
Have you ever seen the movie Tremors? Well, that movie was based on my ability to tunnel through the ground like it was salt water. Being that this is completely true, I would simply bore into the earth where it is slightly warmer and tunnel my way to Florida. This would only take me a few days because I can move at a constant speed of 30 mph for about a month without stopping. I’m sure glad zombies can’t do that.

Scenario:
You’re in an airport (oh no, not another airport scenario. Geez, can’t these guys think of anything new?) and you’ve already crossed through the security checkpoint. As you wonder whether or not some Mexican is ruffling through your belongings, you notice something funny. There, right next to the Quiznos, is a freaking Thai restaurant with real Thai people working in it. How did they get that kind of gig inside of an airport anyway? I can understand Burger King or Cinnabon being there because those places symbolize everything it means to be American, but Thai? No sir, you don’t buy it. Something isn’t right here. Then you see him. A zombie, just standing in the middle of a crowd of people, his lifeless hand still clutching a cup of coffee. It may not be too late. What do you do?

What you should do:
Since you are on the wrong end of a security clearance, you won’t have much in the way of a weapon. Sure, you might have some carry-on luggage with you, but there won’t be anything in there that can take down a rabid dog, let alone a zombie. Because of this, you have to do a couple of things before you take action.

Number one, assess the situation. The zombie is still holding the cup of coffee, so it is possible that it has not fully turned, giving you precious time to destroy it. If it has turned and the cup just hasn’t fallen yet, that is still ok but it takes some of your planning time away. Also, check the reactions of the crowd. The last thing you want to do is create a panic. If they have not noticed the zombie, then do not draw attention to it just yet. If everyone panics, the likelihood of a mass infection increases exponentially.

Number two, obtain a weapon. There are bound to be steel trash cans, umbrellas, or even fountain pens around somewhere in a gift shop or in an old man’s hand. Find it and use it. If there is any security officer nearby, beware. They will not understand what is going on and will try to stop you. This cannot happen and if it means that you get tazed, then so be it.

Once you have your weapon and have scoped out the area for panicking civilians and overzealous security guards, strike. Take down the zombie before it becomes a bigger threat than it already is. You will undoubtedly be arrested because of all the security cameras in the place, but hopefully modern science can prove that this was a zombie and not a living person. That should be enough to get you acquitted.

What I would do:
This scenario actually almost happened to me once. You see, I was sitting in an airport, waiting for my flight to board when I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. All of the sudden, I was being tazed by a security guard and I was twenty yards from my seat. The only thing that was going through my mind was, “WTF? How did I get over here and when is this guy going to stop tazing me!?” Unfortunately, it wasn’t for a long while. I still have the burn marks on my butt. Here’s what happened.

When the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, something inside of my soul knew that a zombie was in the room. This triggered my IZRM (Immediate Zombie Response Mechanism). As I darted toward the zombie with the intention to kill, the security guard warned me to stop or else I would get tazed. Being a ruthless zombie killer, I did not stop and I got tazed. Even then I didn’t stop so I got tazed by the other security guard. At this point, I had so much electricity flowing through me, my muscles would not longer function and I had to stop. But what happened to the zombie?

Well, it wasn’t a zombie. It was Keith Richards. And the security guards were actually his body guards. Life can be funny sometimes.

Scenario:
It’s the most frightening time of year: Halloween. You dread it not because you fear zombies but because dumb kids dress like zombies and end up in an accident that you more likely than not don’t remember. It happens every year, so this year you decide to relax by going to the corn maize. You know, those financial opportunities farmers create by turning their corn fields into massive human trauma tunnels?

Well, you’re halfway through the trampled corn stalks and its midnight and you’re trying to squint at the little bitty map they hand-out in a desperate attempt to escape. Then the screaming starts somewhere nearby, and someone yells zombie, and the next thing you know you’ve decapitated someone. You’re lost, possibly surrounded by zombies, without any gear but the hunting knife you smuggled in. What do you do?

What you should do:
The thing about corn mazes at night is that you never know which direction is which. Damn mazes, always turning you around. So here’s a tip. There are two things that every corn maze I’ve ever seen has: a watch tower (or bridge) and a security light.

I would suggest heading straight toward the watch tower (or bridge). Don’t stay there so long that you attract attention, but use the height advantage to look out over the field and locate the zombies. If it’s ambiguous, at least locate an escape route. Then start running.

Should you head toward the security light? No, that’s dumb. What do you think the zombies are going to head toward? The security light? No, the line of people waiting underneath. Instead, head away from it if you can, then circle back toward your car.

Should you be afraid of running blindly through dense fields of corn? Maybe on account of the fact that you might run right into a zombie, but I think that risk is relatively low in general. You won’t be able to see them, and they won’t be able to see you, so if you plan your escape route well while on the top of the watchtower (or bridge), you shouldn’t need to worry. Of course, if the skies are cloudy and you can’t see a damn thing… Well… Best of luck to you. If nothing else, you can hold out your knife at neck level and spin at supersonic speeds. Anything that comes close will immediately become severed.

What I would do:
I thought about spinning at supersonic speeds so that everything that came near would be severed, but then I decided against it. I mean, really, that sounds like a lot of work, and if there’s anything I am, it’s lazy. And drunk.

Have you ever heard of Chinatown? Me too, but I’ve never been there. Sounds crowded, and I don’t like crowded places because that seems too much like a sausage trap. Instead, I end up at a maze, surrounded by people, with no obvious way out and no weapon but a knife? Sounds like a trap.

And if it’s a trap, that means that everyone must be involved, which means they are somehow or other related to the zombiism, which suggests either alien mind-control or a government conspiracy. Someone might have a lot to gain by killing one of the world’s experts on zombie survival, but it’s too soon to tell just who.

Ever heard of fighting fire with fire? Me too, which is why I would set that dry corn field ablaze. Bingo-California! Woowwwweeee, that’s hot. So I start a fire in the corn field, then I run in between the stalks a little bit and hide quietly, laying low, until the fire starts up pretty good and burns a chunk out of the field. By laying low, I’ll hear if anyone tries to sneak up on me and I won’t run into zombies accidentally, but more important I will have used up enough time that the fire will start working its way out, leaving the center as a safe-haven.

Then, I jump out of my hiding place and dash into the burned out spot, which by now is cooling. There, I can wait until the whole field burns down and everyone leaves. Of course, the zombies won’t leave, but I have a hunting knife for that. The other good thing about starting a fire is that anyone who isn’t in on the conspiracy will get the message that they should probably leave. And scream while they do it. And maybe pee their pants, because that’s what people go to Halloween fright fests for anyway. I bet I’d even make the news and defeat the boy preacher Isaac! What kind of contradiction is that anyway?

Scenario:
Hot damn, you’re a pilot!  Still, it’s too bad all those hours in flight school didn’t train you on how to fight against an air-borne zombie attack.  Yup, zombies have infiltrated your plane and are knocking against the door to get into the cockpit.  The co-pilot’s gone bat-shit crazy and you’re the only one who can bring the big bird down safely.  Not that it matters, though, because somebody jumped out the exit door and into one of the only two jet engines, utterly destroying it and anyone’s chances of surviving in the bathroom.  To keep the plane from spinning out of control, you cut the engines and start you drifting descent.  It’s going to be rough.

But not too rough, considering you’re in the middle of the ocean.  You issue your last commands over the radio, sharing your location with air control back in the States, then you sign off and slam into the water.  You wake up on a deserted island not much larger than a McDonalds parking lot.  There’s sand, and three banana trees.  On the horizon is a column of smoke.  Also, zombies are walking out of the water some fifty feet away.  What do you do?

What you should do:
Ah, ice cream.  How sweet it is to be stranded on a dessert island.  And with bananas on top!  That sweet, baby, infant Jesus, he’s too kind!  And all your friends have come to say hello and feast with you on an ice cream sundae plopped right in the middle of the ocean…  the ocean?  Shit, that’s just a mirage, and those aren’t friends, that’s a concussion!

That’s right, don’t lose your sense of reality.  I mean, *ahem*, don’t loose yourself.  Keep your head on straight.  You’ve got two choices if you want to survive.  One, you can walk a circle around the beach, kicking up sand in three or four specific places each time you pass.  Walk fast enough to stay ahead but not so fast as to tire or dehydrate.  With every pass you make, you’ll begin to dig a series of increasingly deepening holes.  Eventually, the zombies will walk into the holes and trip up, perhaps breaking their ankles.  Even more eventually, they will fall into the holes and be trapped, but that might take a few hundred laps around.

The second option is to just climb one of the “trees” and hope that someone rescues you before you fall out.  With bananas close by and some shade, you might have your best chances of staying fed and hydrated, but you also just sit and wait and have to withstand the *thud* *thud* *thud* of the zombies smacking into the tree.  The boredom or continuous agitation might drive you mad before you are rescued, so you have to decide which route to take.  On the plus side, you probably only have 2 to 3 days of waiting for rescue, assuming the zombies don’t kill everyone who tries to help.

What I would do:
First, I would run to the nearest banana tree and savor the delicious taste of the Michel banana, the stunning flavors of a banana you just can’t buy in stores.  I’d start popping bananas like runts, and then I would cough up the seeds.  Damn wild bananas, why didn’t sweet baby Jesus domesticate you before you were born?  Ah, the mysteries of life.  Well, the reason must be apparent now.  The banana trees aren’t for eating, they’re for killing!

As the zombies approached, I’d pull one of the banana trees straight out of the ground, then use the massive dirt clump on the end to bludgeon the first zombie into jelly.  After that, I’d launch the fibrous projectile through the brains of all the other zombies, two by two, until there were nothing left but a pile of dead bodies drawing birds and stinking up my island.

Obviously, the rest of the time on the island would be spent building a giant sand castle out of the entire beach.  Eventually I would be able to live in my sand castle and feast on the flesh of gulls at the table of “bloodgulch 7.”  That’s what I would call my table.  And when the rescuers finally showed up to get me some fresh water, I would invite them in to my humble abode and give them a tour.  Hey America!  It’s called hospitality, maybe you’ve heard of it?  Just kidding, there’s nothing hospitable about a deserted island sand castle stained with blood.  Except for maybe “bloodgulch 7.”