But you are prepared. You've stocked up supplies, you've got a plan. And you've got guns. But I want you to stop and think about this for a second; in all the scenarios there are only a few people remaining uninfected. A few. This means you, in all likelihood, will be a member of the zombie majority and not one of the surviving humans. What are the chances that you will beat the odds? Are you a lucky person? Have you won the lottery recently? Avoided that sickness that everybody else caught?
Nope. It's time to face facts. You are going to be a zombie. And the last thing you want to see as you round a corner chasing after Sunday brunch is a tasty meatbag holding your shotgun. Or swinging your spiked zom-bat at your head, or running you over with your Zom-burban. So stop it. No more preparing. Don't let your overzealous zeal, provide some nasty breather with the means to separate your head from your shoulders.
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