The Zombie Apocalypse

The people that believe in such stuff, say there are going to be 2 apocalypse: the Zombie apocalypse followed by the grand old apocalypse with which we are all most familiar, and then of course the end of the world.

I don’t put much stock in such goings-on. What the hell is a Zombie anyway? Someone trying to take a bite out of you after they have been bitten themselves? They exist already: they are called toddlers and sometimes “little runts”. And I have never once felt the need to go out and bite another person after being bitten by one of these little ones.

But having said that, I don’t see anything wrong in being prepared just in case those assumed nutcases happen to be right.

So, to start with, I have gone and got myself some serious body armour which is impervious to teeth of all shapes and sizes. I know it works because I tested it on the big rabid dog roaming my neigbourhood before having mercy on it and putting it out of its misery. And I can tell you it gave it all it got: I can’t even see the teeth marks at all, and it had some serious teeth in its head I tell you!

Next, we should not forget the firepower. If I am going to be putting hordes of rampaging rabid zombies down by the thousands, then I need some serious firepower to do it. Therefore, I have visited all the gun shops within a 50 miles radius of my house and put one single demand to each of them: “Gimme all the BFGs* you got!”

But what are guns without ammo. Fortunately, I got the next best thing to unlimited ammo – a production overrun from the ammo factory in the neighboring county. I have got it stashed away in my basement, my room, my refrigerator, my pantry, my pockets, under my bed, my tool shed, my neighbors toolshed (no, he doesn’t know it is there – the only thing he uses that place for is to stock his illegal moonshine), think of anywhere one can stash such things and I have got it covered.

And if you have thought everything through like myself, you will know that starving to death in a zombie apocalypse is no fun at all. You might as well go lie down outside on the road, and let them do short work of you. So, to prevent such unnecessary waste of great genetic material that may be the saving grace of humanity, I have stocked piles and piles of all those flash-freeze-dried-in-a-vacuum concentrated food – they taste like sh*t but they will keep you alive if you don’t mind chewing on something that tastes like your great grandpa’s discarded leather work shoes.

And not to leave anything to chance, after perusing all those fringe websites and reading a ton of these extremists zombie-believers’ brochures and fliers, I have decided to plant the tobacco plant round my house. Some nutters believe zombies can’t stand it. And no, it’s not smoking the stuff that drives them away, that would probably kill you long before the zombie apocalypse (which is not necessarily a bad thing depending on your point of view). So I am putting the government on notice: If you come to my house, what you see is not “weed”, it is plain old tobacco!

I think I have got all the bases covered.

And before you ask, I have tapped into an aqueduct running below my house so I am sure of a continuous supply of clean uninfected water if it comes down to making a stand in my basement.

All that’s left now is to sit back and watch the fun begin.

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BFG* – Big Freaking Gun