<November, as I’m snake-crawling in my gas mask through a burning CVS to recover a bottle of peroxide and steal some antibiotics to treat an infected leg wound I got in the famed Raid on FOB Norwalk, where our makeshift militia group overwhelmed a National Guard unit and acquired a generator for our tent village under the I-95 overpass near Stamford>:
Me: Oh I can attend the Jets-Bills this weekend if I sign a waiver?
<Fires an arrow at a gaunt dog eating some beef jerky in the ravaged Jerky Aisle in CVS, striking it in the neck, excited at the prospect of adding the fur and protein to our diminishing stockpiles, only to be sad when a Bengal Tiger, escaped from Beardsley Zoo, sprints out of the stockroom to claim my kill>
Me: Pretty crazy that President of The Sovereign Northern Americas Commonwealth (SNAC) Woody Johnson was able to get football back so soon. Things are really getting back to norm...
<Flaming zombie falls through the ceiling tiles and bites hard into my neck>