Oh wow.
Oh brilliant.
Oh snap.
I knew my hiding place was beyond the reaches of any corporal entity, they laughed when I said I knew the one place that was deemed non-existent and was out of reach and practically unheard of. But right from the start I knew I was right, I knew that the IMDB forums for the movie 'Maid in Manhattan' was a bleak mote upon the universe that even nuclear warfare would not reach it.
Well, at least ONE person will remember you exist you archetypal formulaic piece of cinematic dross.
Ok, so lets just do a quick one over of myself. Everything seems to be where it was, no hair loss or decayed teeth. My elbow is itchy, although I think that's probably because I haven't showered, so I'll just ignore that.
Out of forums and into the presumed desolate carcass of the old world, but what will it be? Dolorous frozen nothingness, with nothing but the brittle crumbs of former buildings? Or the garish sand-beaten carpet of orange of a world full of blistering heat? I hope it's the former...I don't look good in T-Shirts.
And we have.....SUN! Desert, rocks, small amounts of plantlife, and nary a cloud in the sky. No nuclear Winter for us, although my face will suffice!* Seinfeld Bassline*
The sun is out, looks like we've got a Fallout 3 wasteland on our hands (I'm writing in inclusive nouns, so you guys feel included, suck it Rowling.)
I wonder if Facebook still exists, this would make a nice timeline. And a nice juxtaposition to statuses such as
PETE SMITH IS: Fighting cockroaches the size of a mattress
Hmm, I can't see any buildings. I think I'll head....west, good old reliable west. Stalwart and dependable, like Inspector Morse or the SAS. West it is folks, let's- Wait...did I just see something move?......
.......
......
.....
East!
East it is! East seems cool...yeah, I can dig East.
Shit. Why didn't I get some more reliable clothing...jeans and obscure band t-shirts aren't really fit for somewhere like this, I need something streamlined, ergonomically precise, and sturdy. Yeah, a costume that says 'Don't attack me or I'll BLOODY FUCK YOUR DAY UP'. With my luck I'll probably end up with one of those laughably pathetic jumpsuits from Logan's Run....I really should focus on more important things like getting prozac or food and supplies. But again, those Logan's run jumpsuits are laughably poor. If google still existed I would tell people to use the image search to clarify this, because posting pictures on a blog takes time and I'm a feeb. They would then cup their chin and nod slowly going 'Yes Pete, they are silly...you were correct, and you have fantastic cheekbones.'
Anything less than this will not suffice.
Oh wow, my phone's got signal, how rather anachronistic considering my experience with all things post-apocalyptic. Best send out a mass text to my contacts, I mean, this is a new age, I need to set a standard, a reliable threshold upon which people can feel secure and able to face the mysteries of this new world.
"If your not dead please reply. If you are alive but reply don't then you're a dick. Also, is anybody else really hot? I mean, sheesh, talk about global warming! Hahaha, that was a joke. Pete"
Right, sent.
Let's go East!
40 minutes...I have been walking for 40 minutes and nothing resembling anything other than sand and shrubs have appeared. Can I get just one corpse? Or an airplane wreckage, that'd be pretty neat, I could scavenge for supplies and...pretend I'm on a plane that's crashing...and I'd be all 'OH NOOOOO I'M GONNA DIEEEE!!!! hahaha, just jesting!"
A bag?
Is that a rucksack?
How...arbitrarily placed, did somebody drop it? I mean, it's kind of the sort of thing you'd notice if you just dropped on the floor, it's pretty-oh wait, nuclear strikes- Doi! Almost forgot for a minute.
Let's have a rummage....
12 bottle caps?
How...odd.
Best take them anyway and not bother concerning myself with my ability to store them and immediately gauge their number like Rain Man. Or should I say, LACK OF RAIN Man!! Hahahaha. No seriously, it's probably going to kill a lot of people.
What else...rummage rummage rummage...rummage...rummage.
A spanner. Nope.
A nondescript bottle of water. Did this guy just...put tap water in empty bottles before leaving the house? If so, then he was my kind of guy! Money saving tactics everybody.
Is this? Holy crap- It is...it's what I think it is.
I can't believe I found one so early.
A 'That's what I call Music' compilation CD!
Wait-...no...it's just a gun.
Lame.
Sure it may defend me from rabid wasteland monsters, but it can't play 'Blue' by Eiffel 65...
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