Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Fortress 314

Sounds like the title of something awesome...'cause it is! It's the name we've given our apartment after it undergoes its transformation into the ultimate safe house; when the zombies spread from Tex-ass (we all know these assholes will brag about the fact they had zombies first) to Florida we'll be ready. I usually don't get in on the random zombie apocalypse conversations, but then Yahoo! News (and my own twisted mind) decided to scare the living shit out of me.

I saw a headline the other day on the front page of Yahoo! that read just like one of those foreshadow laden news reports at the beginning of every modern day zombie movie.



Mystery outbreak ends HS game early. Symptoms: insatiable yearning for human flesh.

Essentially, a bunch of people in the bleachers of a high school in Tex-ass were just enjoying a football game and they started vomiting and passing out. For reals. They sent in a hazmat team and everything! The people had nothing in common that would trigger this; they had all eaten at different places and different times. All told, 22 people went to 5 different hospitals. I was officially freaked out. I mean really, I had managed to spend so much of my day thinking about this that when I walked outside to go to work, I thought I smelled blood; I pulled out my phone to tell Killa that I was right when Puddle yelled out to me from the top of the stairs. I screamed, y'all. Not a shriek or a yelp, a full-on "Holy shit! The killer is slicing my throat NOW" type of scream.

I told Killa about the imminent advent of the zombies. She maintained that her apartment would be a great safe house because it is like a cave (Are you a dumb bitch?). I was forced to remind her that almost her entire front wall is made up of a sliding glass door which is the equivalent of an "Open 24 Hours" sign at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I explained that, in actuality, my apartment would make an awesome safe house with very few modifications and room for everyone we like!

So now, obviously, I'm going to tell you about the ways in which we will make our apartment the perfect survival post. A few notes before we start: I live on the third floor, there are 3 bedrooms & 3 bathrooms in my apartment, and we are assuming staggering zombies (not those fast-type fuckers they use to make the action scenes more interesting). Let's do this:

#1 - Bedroom Appropriation - we have a good sized living room and without the furniture it will be the perfect common living area (which I guess is redundant to say since that's kind of the definition of a living room). So, the bedrooms will be reassigned alternate uses: My bedroom will be the pantry (because it is the most easily accessible to ambitious zombies), Cupcake's bedroom will be the infirmary (because her bedroom is furthest from the door), and Match's bedroom will be the armory (because we aren't doing this without a shit ton of weapons).

#2 - Alternate Entrance - going in and out the front door is like asking to be mauled by the undead. Our plan involves sabotaging the stairs and utilizing our 3rd floor balcony to its fullest potential. We will install a zip line that will carry one out over the parking lot to the vehicles we have at the ready (for scouting and hunting, obvs). Rope ladders that can be raised and lowered with little hassle will be the re-entrance method.

#3 - Ground Rules - anyone who gains entry to this fortress is required to agree to one rule: If you are bitten by a zombie, you will be shot. I'm sorry, but there is no room for negotiation here. We are not going to find a magical cure; this is about surviving, not thriving. Now, because we are not cold hearted assholes, Cupcake decided that everyone has to have 2 nice things about everyone else written down and on hand at all times. Should someone become infected, we will all tell them 2 nice things about them, then someone who is not extremely close to them would take them outside, and handle the situation. See? We even made a stipulation that we won't ignite a crisis of conscience by asking you to off your family members! Win-Win ("I do not think it means what you think it means").

Here's what my apartment looks like: 


YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH AND STOP JUDGING ME!
I am now accepting applications to reside in our fortress; please provide any relevant skills, how your presence will detract from the general feeling of despair, and, on a scale of 1 to 10, how comfortable you are with possibly being called upon to kill an infected person.


This overly thought out post brought to you by: Tex-ass, pressure washing, and my recent viewing of The Evil Dead.

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