If Zombies Knock, Who’s Answering the Door First?
Picture this: you’re deep into a midnight jam session, the solar batteries are holding steady, stars are out, and then—bam—there’s an honest-to-goodness zombie pounding on your reinforced door. Who’s jumping up to check? Personally, I’m torn between grabbing my trumpet (for distraction purposes, of course) and hiding behind my telescope.
Let’s settle this once and for all—who in your household is absolutely NOT opening that door? Is it the dog? The spouse who “just wants to check the mail?” Or maybe that one neighbor who never understood boundaries anyway?
Bonus round: What would you actually say if you DID open the door? “Sorry, undead visitors, we’re all out of brains, but we’ve got plenty
Let’s settle this once and for all—who in your household is absolutely NOT opening that door? Is it the dog? The spouse who “just wants to check the mail?” Or maybe that one neighbor who never understood boundaries anyway?
Bonus round: What would you actually say if you DID open the door? “Sorry, undead visitors, we’re all out of brains, but we’ve got plenty
