Inevitably, however, the zombie attack turns out to be the least of the troubles on offer. Because the Conservatives — I mean survivors — can’t defend the Constitution — I mean, house — unless they can first learn to work together and fight as one. If they happened to be military people or people otherwise bred to obedience, there would be no problem. Their leader, whoever he was, would make a plan, give the orders, and the fight would begin. But it’s in the nature of a zombie movie that the Conservatives — I mean, survivors — are just a random group of individuals. Each was busy trying to live out his own life, fulfill his own goals and follow his own dreams, when the Obama administration — I mean Zombie Apocalypse — occurred.
So even as the drooling, hunger-driven creatures hammer at the boarded windows, grunting, “Pay for my contraception!” or “Do an environmental study!” or “Pay yourrrr fairrrrr sharrrre!” the Conservatives — I mean, survivors — defending the Constitution — I mean, house — have to decide who is going to lead them, which person is wisest, which plan is best. Should they go into the basement, which is easier to defend but impossible to escape from, or cluster in the living room, which has windows on all sides but leaves them the basement as a last ditch option? Should they listen to the Businessman, who has the experience of leadership but is too slick to trust? Or should they follow the Preacher, who has some good ideas but is operating under the delusion that this is all some sort of Biblical judgement? Or what about the Professor, who seems smarter than any of them but is known to be an all-around son-of-a-bitch?
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