Now, I’ve watched my share of zombie movies and TV shows and read enough zombie themed books to think that I’ve accumulated enough knowledge to turn it into experience.
First of all, I’m not staying in any bunker. Only cowards go in bunkers, fool. Plus, what if I get stuck in there? I might never get out and end up starving to death underground. That’s basically the same as being buried alive!
The first thing I’m doing is packing my bag with flour and iodine tablets. Mixing flour with water can make biscuits for dire situations. I’ll bring a guide that shows what wild foods I can eat and not eat because I don’t have time learn that now. And matches. And the entire Harry Potter collection in case I get bored. But that’s it!
After that, I’ll drive to my Grandpa’s house out in the country and make sure everyone’s ok over there. Then I’ll borrow (borrow. Hah! as if I’m coming back) some ammunition for the zombies. But before I leave, my grandma will probably give me a snack or two to eat. She’s nice like that.
Then, I’m stealing a motorcycle (stealing is okay, because once zombies exist, all morals fly out the window). No cars, because the zombies will be all over the road and I don’t want guts jamming up the car parts. So I’m just going to maneuver around everything easily and make my way to uninhabited CANADA. No people, no zombies.
By the time I’m there, in the forest of the uninhabited part of Canada, I’ll build myself a little temporary/permeant shelter. But all I know about building shelters is from when me and my sisters would build forts. So, I’m going to have to find someone who knows what they’re doing when it comes to building something. His name will probably be like Sam. Or something.
By the time he’s done building my shelter, he’ll ask to stay. But I’mma gonna be a like “Nuh-uh, here’s ‘The Prisoner of Azkaban’ as payment. Go away before I throw you into the zombie pit I built outside.” Oh yeah, I built a zombie pit that has pig meat to lure wandering zombies into it. I only have like three zombies at the time, but it’s enough to do the job. Only for when my enemies try to mess with me. You know, your average evil cannibals, murderers, those kind of enemies that always exist and thrive in environments like zombie apocalypses
And in my quaint little shelter built by some dude named Sam, eating wild berries and snared squirrels, sitting around the fire and reading every Harry Potter book (except for the Prisoner of Azkaban, regretting that I gave that one up), listening to the quiet moaning of the zombies in my zombie pit outside, I’ll enjoy the solitude of my zombie apocalypse. Until, you know, I get pneumonia or something.