While I was there, my parents gave me their new backpacks they had gotten for hiking. They won't be able to use them for a while now that she's bound to the bacta tank until she heals up, so I get 'em. They're sweet camelback backpacks, those ones with the crazy straw that comes out of the back and holds 2 liters of water. I immediately, like the same day I got home, repacked Mary and I's bug-out bags, each slightly personalized for our own special zombocalypse needs.
Speaking of zombocalypse, I made my mom and aunt watch Dawn of the Dead (2004) and now they're totally on the zombocalypse preparation train. The movie scared my mom so bad she had a nightmare that night, so that's a win. They finally understand the problems we will face when the zombocalypse erupts. The following rules of zombie engagement were especially poignant:
Thank goodness you don't have to worry about the dog being a zombie though. If dogs could be zombies we'd all be screwed. Fortunately, there's no way for the zombie virus to infect animals. Isn't that right Nibbles?
5) Aim for the head if you're a good shot. Actually, run away and let other people stand around aiming for the head regardless of whether you're a good shot.
4) All government-suggested 'safe and secure zones' will no longer be safe or secure by the time you get there. Also, the helicopter you signal will not pick you up.
3) Always hide your bites from your fellow survivors so they don't shoot you. Who knows, maybe you're immune to the zombie virus!
2) Assume everyone else is hiding bites and be ready to shoot them. They're selfishly putting the party in danger by hiding their bites, no one is immune to the zombie virus.
1) That cute puppy you adopt will only put the party in danger. The orphan girl will get attached to it and chase it into the sewer when it runs off, forcing you to lead a search party on a highly dangerous and pointless mission to save her. This will undoubtably result in the loss of some of your best shooters in the process. Shoo away the dog now.