Our Contract of Carriage sheds some light on recent passenger experiences.
Warning: This contains spoilers.
No one knows how or why The Walking Dead‘s apocalyptic zombie virus plague first struck Atlanta (except for the weird Army scientist who looks like Judah Friedlander in Zoolander). However, as we prepare for Sunday’s Season 4 finale, we do know one thing:
This animation-inspired reanimation-based classic is modeled after Shakespeare’s Hamlet, because everyone you want to live is going to die.
Yes, duh, that’s in no way different from real life; everyone has an expiration date. The difference between our two worlds is, obviously (hopefully?), that in this world we don’t return from the dead lusting for sweet, sweet human meats and/or end up as a severed head in the Governor’s collection.
After faithfully following a continually dwindling list of original cast members as a result of increasingly insurmountable odds for survival against unending, unsleeping, unstoppable hordes of zombies, we must ask ourselves:
Why isn’t everyone a zombie already?
Let’s examine the facts:
Everyone on Earth is dead.
Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say that 99.99999% is dead. Forgot my maths.
99.99999% of everyone on Earth is dead.
Think about the people you come across every day. See above. Oh, and it’s not just like they just disappeared — they’re all zombies now.
Zombies are superhuman.
They have the strength of Lou Ferrigno packed into zombies the size of the mom from Little People, Big World, a nose for blood that rivals [insert name of cool Twilight vampire character with keen sense of smell for blood], and, despite conventional science, can go years without feeding— yet retain stamina that could smoke Michael Phelps under the table in an individual medley. Or bong rips. Do zombies get high?
They lack proper shelter.
These people sleep in the woods more often than Les Stroud. When they are inside, they methodically select houses that have the clown car ability to fit 28 zombies into a guest bath. They should be bolting doors, barring windows or setting up booby-trapped cities like the guy from “Clear” that Rick left behind.
Instead, they’re getting drunk on bathtub gin, cracking pecans in front of roaring fires, and, you know, playing tag with reanimated corpses. Even the Swiss Family Robinson wouldn’t last this long, and they lived in trees.
They lack survival training.
This isn’t a weekend in the Poconos in your RV, “roughin’ it” with *gasp* only two bars of service. There’s no food, no clean water, and everyone is about as useful as Barney Fife with a fishing pole, so they can’t catch their own food. (Ignore Daryl and the Claim Gang for this next comment:) Has anyone killed an animal for food this whole show?
These people are idiots.
Go back and watch every scene with Andrea and/or Beth. Idiots.
They lack proper weapons.
There’s a baker’s dozen of zombies attacking? Good thing I have all of the protection of this pocketknife! Getting beyond the fact that nearly every character opts for a tiny blade over, you know, some sort of homemade four-foot pike fashioned from an aluminum pole (we’ve all thought about it), there have been too many “we’re running low on ammo” moments for us to believe they have enough bullets to stand a chance against more than a few zombies at a time. +15 to Decapitation skill if Michonne is in your party.
Everyone is well past being infected.
Has anyone else noticed that after every kill these people have zombie blood in every open orifice? When did that stop turning people into zombies? They were worried that the amorphous undead in the water well that didn’t not look like Bruce Vilanch would cause water contamination on the farm. How is that more worrisome than actual zombie blood in your mouth?
They scream at all times.
CURL? CURL! WHERE ARE YOU, CURL? ZOMBIES, FOLLOW MY VOICE SO YOU CAN HELP ME FIND CURL! Everyone has their amps at 11, even though the *slightest* sound attracts every zombie within a mile; though, to be fair, Lizzie is busy trying to smother a baby to avoid detection.
They go out of their way to ignore signs of danger.
CDC guy is drinking like it’s his last night on Earth? It is. My buddy Shane is acting weird around my kid and eyeing my wife? Better head into the woods with him alone. Placing more faith into a patch-wearing, zombie-daughter-having auxiliary character than you should? Welp, your carelessness has forced us into two episodes of worthless Governor backstory, plus Hershel’s now dead. Thanks, AMC.
At least Michonne had the sense to use her zombie mules’ scent to hide in plain sight.
They believe Terminus will go well.
Seriously? Y’all are just dead walking. Walking dead. OH MY GOD I JUST GOT THE SHOW’S NAME!
Tim Ottolin is a writer, performer, and professional person. He is sorry he forgot to wish you a happy birthday this year.