We Hate Zombies

Scenario:
Holy shit! You fell off the grid for over a month because you moved to Mon-fucking-tana (as your friend Daniel so delicately put it) and everything is unfamiliar. It is a true zombie survivalists nightmare because there is no escape plan. There is no safe fortress. Hell, there isn’t even a goddamn Steak-N-Shake in sight. In fact, you’ve just realized that there are mountains in every direction, making a quick escape unlikely. Then you hear it. The scrape of a bloody stump, flesh and bone, scraping across the sidewalk. Zombies. What do you do now?

What you should do:
Well, you’re boned. You’ve unknowingly moved into a giant bowl with side too steep to climb out of without the use of the interstate, which is closed by the way because of the 100 mile long line of cars going nowhere. It’s a buffet for zombies. The only chance you have comes from a movie widely regarded as the survival oasis of the new century.

The International features a scene where a world class assassin needs advice from some boy he is playing Go with. I believe the quote goes like this: “If there is no way out, find a way deeper in.” Because this makes more sense than the alphabet, I made it my mantra and so should you. Head into the heart of town, into the zombie jungle. There you will find safety.

This is what I like to call the Montana Paradox. You would think that getting out of town would be the best way to save your ass, but in this case it isn’t for you. You can find safety in the heart of zombie land. But how? Easy, head that way in your car because that side of the road will be empty of cars. Once you get to the heart of town, find a safe place to hide and pray that you don’t shit your pants. Zombies love the smell of soiled pants.

What I would do:
I would actually just drive on the wrong side of the road. I would drive to safety and then start a forest fire that would hopefully burn the entire place to the ground. Then I would rent a redbox at a Wal-Mart, grab a six pack of cold beer, pick up a forty oz for the road and have myself a good time in Wyoming. NOTE: Must stop at a Wal-Mart before Wyoming. There isn’t shit in Wyoming.

Scenario:
It is late summer. The air is stagnate and boiling hot. Your field hasn’t seen a drop of rain in about a month. The corn is underdeveloped but completely dried out and ready to harvest. You are out in the field taking samples to make sure it isn’t too soon, or too late. You are about to take a break and smoke your tobacco pipe when you hear a faint rustling in the corn a few rows over. What could it be? Your wife died last year from the cancer and Ruddy, your brown lab, died ten years ago when he got kicked by the horse. The kids have all moved out and you don’t have any friends. It can be only one thing. Zombies! What do you do?

What you should do:
You’ve been farming this land your whole life so you know where you are and where you can run, but the zombies have the advantage. They just have to follow you and you don’t know where they could be hiding. You can’t see far in the corn across the rows, so you need to run down the row that you are in. You can see all the way up and down the row so you only have to worry about a zombie flanking you on your way out.

But which way do you go? Do you head back to the house where the zombies could find other people to attack or do you head farther out into the fields? Heading home would give you more tools to dispatch the zombies, so you should head that way, despite the danger to other people. Remember, you don’t have any friends, so if they get bite, just finish them off with your chainsaw.

Once you make it out of the corn, grab your rifle and pick them off as they saunter out of the fields. Hopefully you get them all, but you’ll never know.

What I would do:
Above all else, I am a zombie hunter. I am not a farmer, a brother, or a human. Keeping that in mind, I want to make sure that I get every last one of those bastards. Making the assumption that the zombies are all in the corn field, I only have one option. Light a match and watch the mother fucker burn.

But how do I make sure that I get them all and that they don’t escape the flames by going the opposite way? Well, it is simple. I have to start the flames toward one of the corners of the field that I am in. Since the zombies are likely to blindly follow me around until they catch me or they die, I will stay in the field and continue to light the corn in various places. The eventual goal is to spiral toward the center of the field so that they corn is burning in all directions and the zombies are trapped. Since the corn is dry as week old dog shit, it should burn pretty damn fast. Then all I have to do is sit and wait.

Why kill yourself brave zombie hunter? Considering that I am an old man with nobody to spend my life with and I just burned my entire years work (and paycheck), it really does seem like the easy way out. And, if I get all of the zombies in one shot, what better way to go down? I could live out the rest of my life and eventually die of liver failure, on account of the drinking, or I could sit in the middle of a burning cornfield, all zenlike and shit, while a horde of zombies closes in on me just as the fire closes in on them. It is like choosing between a bratwurst and cow penis: the choice is clear.

Scenario:
Your local grocery store is having a sale

I want your job!

on big boy Bud Lite cans at one dollar each, limit one thousand per visit. This is the sale of the century. When you get up to the counter with a cartload of treasure, you realize that you only have twenty bucks on you and your credit card is already maxed. In a panic, you shoot the clerk in the heart, take the twenty and the beer and hit the road. As you run down the street, the clerk is hot on your heels and he doesn’t look like he is coming for the money. What do you do?

What you should do:
Turn around and shoot him in the head. The man is obviously a zombie now and you cannot remember him for what he was. Wait a minute. You just shot the man in the heart while he was alive. What is the hold up?

Oh, you are out of bullets. That is a problem. Can you outrun the clerk? No, he is gaining on you. No more ammo, huh? Run into the street and start dodging traffic. The zombie clerk will be too interested in you to watch for speeding cars and buses.

This is me. I am winning. You are probably killed by me.

The longer you run in traffic the better your chances of surviving are.

What I would do:
Believe it or not, I wouldn’t have a maxed out credit card so I could pay for all the booze with it, even if I was out of cash. I would drink the beers and buy some more ammo. Life is simpler that way and so is killing zombies. This way, the only surprise is the happy ending down at the Tokyo Spa. God bless America.

Scenario:
You are wounded in battle with a horde of zombies, but not bitten or clawed. A fellow zombie killer shot you in the right kidney during an untimely panic attack and you blacked out. When you came to, the pain was intolerable and the survivors were nowhere to be seen. You tried to call for help and stand, but all you could do was moan loudly and wiggle around on the ground, covering yourself with your own blood and dirt. Then, from out of the bush comes a rugged looking guy holding an axe and wearing a shirt that says “LAMBO” in big letters. He takes you for a zombie and intends to kill you. What do you do?

What you should do:
Considering the fact that zombies do not and will never be able to talk, simply speak to the kind fellow and he will surely spare your life. There is an outside chance that he is deaf, but this would really work against him in a zombie apocalypse and he would most likely be dead at this point. Surely he speaks English, but nobody can guarantee that these days, so shout at him in a few different languages so that he gets the idea. This should save your life.

There is also another terrifying situation that may prove troublesome for you. If the man saw his entire life (his family, his dog, his lawn dart set) consumed by a zombie horde, he may be mad with hatred and kill anything in his path that could be a zombie. Even if you speak to him and he understands, the fact that you remind him of a zombie could drive him insane and he could cut off your head. For this, I have no solution. Good Luck.

What I would do:
I believe that all zombie killers have one thing in common. They all kill zombies and love peanut butter. For this reason, I always have a peanut butter sandwich stuffed in my left sock just in case I need it. This is one of those situations. I would muster the strength to pull the sandwich out of my sock and simple say, “I made this for you LAMBO.” He will see the sandwich and fall in love with me, reducing the risk of him dispatching me. Even if he is insane with hatred, this could break the spell. If not, then I would simple destroy him with a bazooka.

Scenario:
You’ve just picked up a fresh copy of Guitar Hero: Metallica and you’ve been playing it for about twenty minutes. You are right in the middle of a fresh-melt-your-face-off shred when zombies come crashing through your kitchen windows. You’ve got the music up so loud and you are kicking so much fucking ass that beads of concentration sweat are rolling down your back, soaking the blood stained Slayer T-Shirt you have on. Also, you don’t hear the zombies coming in. What do you do?

What you should do:
Whenever you are playing Guitar Hero, you should always block the door into your room with something. Most people use a chair or a dresser or a large pile of dirty clothes, but you could also use a giant bag of charcoal or something. One sweet thing about doing that is that you can get annoyed at the zombies when they try to break into your room. This will probably alert you to their presence and you can come up with a strategy from there.

If you don’t block the door, or lock it for that matter, then you should probably set up a security system for your house so that if zombies break in through any window in the place, it cuts the power to your XBox. Then you know something is up when you look up from the black screen with only a half melted face.

Finally, you should have an escape plan for when they do try to break down the door. Windows are probably not the safest route out because more zombies might be waiting out there. Have a secret door in the floor so that you can escape through the crawl space. This gives you pretty good odds of escaping the city alive.

What I would do:
I have a pretty badass set of speakers that I hook up to the old Xbox whenever I play Guitar Hero. This would be no different. Whenever the zombies break in, I would sense them with the Z-sense that I have developed. Whenever a zombie is near, my testicles climb back into my abdomen for a couple of really good reasons. It helps me be less vulnerable to pokes in the crotch and I am less likely to snag them on anything while I am running, jumping, and scaling twelve foot barbed wire fences. Anywho, when this happens and I am playing Guitar Hero, I would pump up the volume on those bad boys to bone shattering (that’s just two clicks above 1,000,000 on the volume nob) and play the solo finale of One. This would guarantee that the zombies don’t make it through the door, where I would then be dry humping the plastic guitar that I love so much.