Friday, October 31, 2008
Arising from our work chair last Friday to snag a dark chocolate Hershey kiss from Nancy's Neighboring Cubicle, we noticed how structurally unsound our office's windows really are. In fact, a few summers ago one of the landscapists, riding atop his mower, flicked a stone at the glass door and shattered the hell out of it. Now if a pebble were able to do that, just imagine what quick work a hungry zombie would make of it.
Returning to our cubicle, we asked our other neighbor--pretty much the only other person at work within our age range--if he had ever considered the building's defenses if a horde of zombies were to attack. What everyday instruments of our sleepy little office could double as ass-kicking zombie death tools? What cozy nook would serve as adequate shelter? Whom would we eat to stay alive?
Talking it over in earnest, we think the two of us came up with a pretty good escape/defense plan: Rip out the phones and beat any immediate threats (including zombies and fellow co-workers -- but probably mostly zombies) with them while shielding ourselves with our trash bins and file cabinet drawers. Then, make a break for the kitchen area en route to the warehouse, grabbing as much food/drink from the fridge as possible, and, if we have time, starting the microwave, just in case the zombies are heat-seeking. Because you never know.
From there, we'd snag as much from the small auto-venders of cashews, peanuts, M&Ms, peanut M&Ms, and, if we had time, tamales, as we could and climb the warehouse shelves, because zombies probably aren't good climbers. From there, we could drop boxes of various printing supplies on top of the zombies and hopefully wait it out. Likewise, we would have access to vehicles (though our neighbor pointed out that most people who go for the vehicles tend to die doing so, nevertheless, we'd still have access to them).
We also came up with a great idea for deciding who gets eaten first. Basically it goes by a hysteria basis: whoever screams/panics/cries-about-never-seeing-t
Obviously we want to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible, so we'll take decibel level of scream into consideration, but the pansy who quietly weeps and won't move when we're all yelling at them to do so better watch out, too. In case of a tie, well, we haven't thought that far ahead yet, but at least we have the basics covered--which is probably more than we can say for most everyone else.
Anyone else have some zombie-safety tips to contribute?