text: "So, if I can convince Jimbo to share the food in the grocery with you, will you forget about trying to kill him?"
  
  "Yeth. All we want ith to protect the innocent citizenth of Cowperthton."
  
  You drive back to the grocery and seek out Jimbo, who is right where you left him. While initially reluctant to cooperate with the Boners, his fear for his life gets the better of him and he ends up sending you to deliver the message that he agrees with their terms. For resolving the conflict peacefully, Lord Asteon grants you the Insightful Sandals of Bladder Control. Upon your return to the grocery, Jimbo puts you on the list of people to feed.
  
  The next night, a massive horde of undead converge upon the grocery. Jimbo is quick to react, taking his armed guards to the door to fend them off; he shouts for all others to remain calm and stay inside.
  
  But the horde's numbers are great, and one by one, Jimbo's men run out of ammunition. Some continue trying to bludgeon the ghouls with their guns. Jimbo, naturally, is one of the ones who runs back inside like a little girlie. Some of the others, armed with shoes, broken bottles, and whatever gardening implements they may have brought from home, rush to the door to try to beat the zombies back. The question is... are you one of them?
  
  > Nah... You think it's time to be hitting the old dusty trail.
  Whatever, this whole grocery fiasco was fucked from the start. You may as well cut your losses, so you run to the back room, where you aren't the only one grabbing food to make a run for it. You take an armful of Funions and bolt out the back door.
  
  You probably won't make it very far without your car. The problem is, it's parked in the front, where the zombie horde is attacking from. The more distance between you and them, the better. But since they're all trying to cram through the door, you might be able to run past and make a clean getaway in your luxurious Camry.
  
  What do you want to do?
  
  > go for the car
  What the hell, you decide to take the chance on your car. You circle around the grocery and make a run for it. The zombies aren't even out here anymore, they've broken through the defenders into the grocery. Looks like you made the right choice. You get in your car and drive back to your place.
  
  Well, that was a shitty way to spend two days, you think. You put your life on the line by venturing out of your bathroom, helped murder three guys and all you have to show for it is a couple bags of Funions. You eat one for dinner and the next morning, you eat one for breakfast. Now you have nothing.
  
  I guess you'll have to go to Canada.
  
  > Oh joy
  That morning, you get back in your car and hit the road.
  
  If you make it to far northern Canada, where nobody lives, there will surely be no zombies. You head off out of town going roughly north - you're not 100% sure what the quickest route is, but you figure if you drive north long enough, it's only a matter of time until you're chilling with the polar bears.
  
  However, you don't make it far before a problem presents itself. The journey will be long, encompassing many days; at some point, you will undoubtedly need to acquire more gas. As it is, you only have half a tank. But if the electricity is out at your house, it may well be out everywhere, rendering gas stations useless to you. To be on the safe side, you should find a means of siphoning gas.
  
  One choice would be to stop at the nearest house you find and take a hose. The downside is this would require you to manually suck the gas out, thereby exposing yourself to carcinogenic compounds. It would also taste like balls. Another option is: there's a Home Depot not far from here, where you might be able to find a pump of some sort that could do the work for you. It would also be an opportunity to pick up some other useful supplies. However, there is no telling how many zombies you might encounter in a place like that.
  
  > stop at a house and take a hose
  Naturally, you don't want to risk your ass in a high-population area. If you did, you wouldn't be going to Canada. So you keep an eye out and when you spot a small shack not far down the road, you stop. There is no apparent activity, human or otherwise, in or around the shack. Cautiously, with hat rack in hand, you slide open the garage door to reveal a mess of outdoor equipment and old boxes. It smells like stagnant water. A few minutes of poking around yields a garden hose and a gas can. In an old fridge at the back, you discover a few protein shakes and warm beers that should sustain you for at least another day.
  
  For the next few hours, you drive along the back roads, encountering no living humans and only a handful of zombies, which you run over. Yee haw. You make your way into the countryside: hilly farmland where houses - and potential undead - are few and far between. Sitting there, staring at the road for so long is wearing on you. You drift off, per se, into a daydream. About tits.
  
  Suddenly, an orange light catches your eye. You're almost out of gas!
  
  You've never been in this part of the state before, so you have no idea how far down the road you might have to go to find a car you can siphon from. You might have to turn around. But it seems like forever since the last house you passed. How many miles has it been? Twenty? Thirty? And you're not even sure if there was a car at that place.
  
  > Keep going
  You probably don't have enough gas to make it back to the last house. The only reasonable option is to keep going north and hope you run into something.
  
  A few miles later, you come across a Ford Explorer stuck in a ditch by the side of the road, so you get out and examine it. It's still running and there's a zombie in the driver's seat. Guess he was bitten and didn't have the balls to end it. Or didn't know that a zombie bite infects you, like all those people on television and in the movies. What's up with that? Is all zombie-related media set in a parallel universe in which no one has ever seen a zombie movie?
  
  And now for a more important question. Clearly, you need to siphon the gas from this car, as there's no telling how far it could be before you run across another source. However, according to state law, the engine must be completely stopped before any fuelling or de-fuelling operations can commence. This would require killing the zombie so you can safely access the ignition. The problem with this is that there's a lazy bastard inside of you just screaming to be let out. He wants you to siphon the gas without taking the extra fifteen seconds to do it the right way. So what do you do?
  
  > kill the zombie and stop the engine
  As Henry Ford once said, "Quality means doing it right when nobody is looking." You take the extra fifteen seconds to open the door, bludgeon the rotter's brains in, and shut the car off. Over the course of several minutes, you manage to siphon a considerable amount of gasoline, but not without getting a mouthful. Bleh. But hey, at least you're on the road again.
  
  It's a long way to Canada, but with your superior intuition and not-suck-ish-ness, you're confident you can make the journey.
  
  > Epilogue
  It is a long and arduous journey, but over the course of many days, you do indeed make your way to the barren tundra of northern Canada. There, you live alone in a cave, as you neglected to bring tools to build a cabin.
  
  The cold, the toxic substances you were exposed to siphoning gas, and chronic lack of sex takes its toll on your sanity. Eventually, you are seduced by a lithe young bear, and you let her move into your cave because her folks threw her out. She is an amazing cook, and prepares many sandwiches for you. Life has never been better.
  
  One day, you decide to cover yourself with honey because you think it will be a turn-on to her. She then eviscerates your genitalia, and you die of a broken heart.