Yes, I am more appealing than peanut butter - but more on that in a minute.
Today, while trying to work on my WIP, I considered muzzling my youngest son and locking him in a closet.
Corwin: I know you're trying to work, but do you think we'd survive the zombie apocalypse? How would we kill them? I mean, it's not like we have tactical nukes just lying around. Do you think the Marines have special zombie killing training? Do you think cats would be an effective fighting force against zombies? What if cats were zombies? Would zombie cats purr? I bet it would be more of a meow-moan. Meo-oooan, meo-oooan, meo-oooan. (Sound effects complete with shambling around my work area.) I wonder if zombies would like the smell of salt and vinegar potato chips or if it would repel them like it does my brother.
Me: *blink blink blink* (typing exchange along with muzzling and closet threat to Brynn via IM) Tactical nukes are always a bad idea - even for zombies.
Brynn helpfully sent back a list of responses to Corwin's questions.
1.) Don't give them brains. Barring that, decapitation.
2.) Zombies, Al Qaeda, very similar. No special training needed.
3.) No to the cats. They do what they want and leave you in the lurch. (Actually, she originally typed lunch before correcting it - Freudian/Zombie slip?
4.) No, they growl.
5.) Yes, they like it - especially on your breath because it's close to your brain.
Brynn: Betcha didn't think I knew all this.
Me: I'm impressed. And deeply surprised.
Brynn: This is why I'll survive the zombie apocalypse. I've been tested. I know. And sorry...you were sacrificed. They like you more than peanut butter.
Me: There's a test? What test is this?
Brynn: One I took on Facebook about six months ago.
Me: Huh. I do like to think I'm more appealing than peanut butter...
Brynn: I haz teh zombie knowledge.
Corwin is still shambling around the room holding Willow (who's looking mighty confused) and saying Meo-oooan, meo-oooan, meo-oooan, meo-oooan.
Yeah...this book is moving right along.