We all have zombie apocalypse survival plans, don’t we? We all take into account when choosing where to live how zombie resistant the location is; how we’d barricade the doors; where we’d get supplies. We all have cupboards full of tinned food and containers for catching rain water. It isn’t just me.
Last night as I watched ‘Resident Evil: Afterlife’ I remembered an earlier conversation with a work friend: She had whispered timidly and nodded appreciatively as I reassured her there is nothing wrong with her 14 year old son wanting to read ‘The Zombie Survival Guide’. Oh yes, I’d heard of it. In fact, I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself asking to borrow it.
My non-work related friends and I discuss zombie survival tactics on a regular basis. You’ve got to. It’s not muggers and serial killers I’m watchful for late at night. I’m looking for warning signs of a zombie epidemic. My eyes are constantly peeled for the most efficient escape route. Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t happen. You have to be prepared.
I didn’t say any of this to my colleague of course. She’s worried her teenage son is a freak; she doesn’t need to dwell on my idiosyncrasies as well. One thing I did confess is that I’m dying to do a Zombie Walk.
Zombie-Aid advertised 2 zombie walks in Manchester last year, although I have a vague recollection that both were cancelled. I wanted to be blood splattered and ashen-faced locked inside the Arndale Centre, bumping the glass doors and groaning to get out. After all, the practice at fitting in could prove crucial.
It seems I’m in luck: Just last week Zombie-Aid announced the ‘Dead Island’ zombie walk will take place on Saturday 10th September. Fantastic! I’ve marked it on my calendar and plan to be there with gore galore: entrails hanging out, blood soaked clothes, possibly with a dismembered arm to scrape along the ground…
After every zombie walk the Hellfire, Manchester’s haunted restaurant, throws open its doors to welcome in the undead. Actually, it does that every day. Do you fancy using elaborate dragon cutlery to eat the ‘Belly of the Beast’, ‘Satan’s Crown Jewels’ or simply ‘Soup of the Dead’? At Manchester’s horror themed restaurant you can, for now.
Of course, you don’t have to dress as the undead. Whilst they prefer theme-appropriate attire normal clothes are acceptable too, as long as you promise not to gawk at those who take alternative lifestyles seriously. (Only the wall mounted ghoulish heads are allowed to gawk, which they do, right at you, the entire time whilst you are eating).
I’ve known about the Hellfire for years but I haven’t managed to drag anyone there. Now I’m on a deadline. I recently discovered the owner is moving abroad and the new owners might retire the horror theme. They’ve promised to honour bookings until Christmas but I don’t want to take any chances. Lou: Can we host our next book club meeting there?! Pretty please?
Whilst we’re kind of on the subject, take a look at this house in Alderley Edge. Lovely isn’t it? It needs a lot of work but it could make an intriguing family home, don’t you think? What it doesn’t mention in the estate agents description is that it’s the gatehouse to a working graveyard.
Despite the obvious drawbacks for us Zombie-phobes (Kinemortophobia) it wouldn’t be very practical. You’d feel awkward having a barbeque with friends. Imagine the situation from your children’s perspective. What if you let your dog out for a run and it brought home a present? I had a look around a few weeks ago. There were fresh graves in the, ah-hem, ‘garden’. Are all estate agents this sneaky?
One final thing: Do you fancy taking part in a monster hunt? It’s free to play and there are lots of prises to be won from the Printworks. See the Monster Hunt website for details.
What is your zombie survival plan? Have you been to the Hellfire? Will you be joining me for Zombie Aid? All comments are welcome.