Of course, in this fantasy, these guys are the strong, the survivors. They are the ones shooting zombies left and right with enhanced, double-barrel potato guns and post-apocalyptic slingshots. They are are not the ones who, as soon as the zombies come out of the ground, are the first to have their brains slurped down like a 7-Eleven Slurpee in the middle of a group of prepubescent baseball players on a 90 degree day because they accidentally tripped on a rock in front of the first zombie to un-die.
In reality, a zombie apocalypse would be Darwinism at its finest. Only the very strongest would survive. You get migraines? While you're suffering because of the light, the zombies will eat you. Bad knee? Zombie will catch you faster. Blood-clotting disorder? You're practically a zombie soda-fountain.
One major reason I do not look forward to a Zombie Apocalypse is I know that I would be the first to go. Let's be reasonable. My cunning and intellect are not going to save me here .
First of all, I have a bum knee and I wear very strong prescription contacts. The bum knee will slow me down. Also, I am aware that contact lenses will be very hard to come by in a Zombie Apocalypse. Basically, after the scorched earth moment, I will not be able to see unless I hoard all contact lenses in the near vicinity from Lens Crafters and pray that some of them fit me. Of course, I need contact solution, too. Otherwise, I'll get an eye infection, and the smell will lead the Zombies straight to my nest of contact lenses.
Secondly, I have had my thyroid gland removed and am on daily medication to keep my thyroid hormones steady. A thyroid is the major metabolic gland in the body. So, I have a metabolism that is entirely artificially controlled by pills. No... don't say it. It makes me angry...
Anyway, there are two possible outcomes in this Zombie-thyroid scenario, neither of which are particularly savory.
a) I have no medicine. Slowly, over time, I will gain eleventy billion pounds until I can barely move. I will be hungry all the time and my mental faculties will slow down. In fact, I have no doubt that my speech, too, would become slow and garbled, and in effect, I would become a creature reminiscent of Jabba the Hut, except less dangerous and possibly more hideous. This would effectively turn me into a buffet for zombies. Eating me would be like taking candy from a baby.
In fact, it would be easier, because I probably wouldn't be able to see because I couldn't replace my contacts.
b) In the other scenario, I could possibly survive, especially if there were large herds of swine in the vicinity, but I guess any mammal could potentially suffice.
See, back before I got thyroid surgery, I was concerned about whether or not I could survive thyroidless in a post-apocalyptic world. Research led me to the fact that prior to civilized times, people used to eat animal thyroids if their own didn't function. Specifically, slices of pig thyroids eaten on toast points.
Now, I don't think that realistically I will be making toast points in a post-apocalyptic world. In all likelihood, it would be more like this:
which really would put me only a few steps above the zombies on a scale of classiness.
Suffice it to say that I am not looking forward to a Zombie Apocalypse. I just don't think I would make it. And becoming a pig-thyroid-vampire does not appeal to me either.