Saturday, 18 February 2012

Surviving Hell

So you're in Centerparcs. Let's not get in to how you got there - it probably involved a drunken conversation with your other half in which you blithely agreed with everything she said in the vain hope that she'd shut the fuck up and let you hear what was going on on "The Walking Dead".

Ironically, how much of the plot you were able to understand - between witterings about curtain fabric and what her mother has done now - will directly affect your chances of survival in the depths of the forested hell in which you now find yourself.  Because surviving a zombie holocaust requires almost exactly the same skills required to survive your own expensive ordeal.


I'm going to provide you with some basic rules to improve your chances of getting out alive and with your sanity intact. I have experience here - through various mishaps and misadventures, I have found myself in that betwigged hell a total of three times. And each time, I got out by following some very simple, but very important rules of engagement. Come with me if you want to live...

1. Know your environment. The first thing you need to do, before you have even unpacked, is to work out your exit routes. Get hold of a map, and plot the key strategic locations. Firstly, where have you parked your car? You don't know? Then I am afraid you're dead. The car park is HUGE - you saw the bastard when you arrived. You MUST know precisely where your vehicle is located AT ALL TIMES - escape on foot is not possible. There is nothing - NOTHING - within a day's walk of the gulag worth walking to. There are, however, two prime objectives reachable by car: a supermarket and a pub. Find out where they are. Failure to do so WILL result in failure, soldier. There will be only one exit from the camp, so get to know it.
Learn this. Learn it.

Another key point on the map is your chalet - I'm sorry, but that's what it is, so you can call it a "lodge" as much as you like but we all know the truth. This is your safe haven. Yes, it might have peeling wallpaper and a broken toaster, and there might be a highly suspicious smell coming from the toilet. But it has lockable doors and a fridge in which to keep the all important cache of the one substance that will save your life

2. Booze. You have to have some booze. Not just some, a metric twatload of the stuff. Whatever your preferred tipple, it is vital that you keep your fridge stocked with enough of it to float a medium-sized guided missile cruiser. "Oh, but we have kids", you cry. Fuck 'em, I say. They're having fun, they don't know the horror. They don't know, man. They don't know. Put them in bed and tie one on - trust me, it's the only way.

If, through poor planning or base stupidity, you don't have alcohol in your chalet (shut up, it is), then it is imperative to locate and patronise a bar at the first opportunity. There will be several to choose from in your locale, but there will be only one which is not packed to the rafters with soul-eating zombie shitblasters. Your target will be the one furthest away from what is laughably known as the "pool complex' but which you will come to know as the Watery Portal to Hades Populated By Satan's Least Attractive Demons From The Lowest Pit. Find this bar, make it your own, hope it has a soft play area for the kids. Make full use of this unlikely sanctuary, but do not, no matter how famished you may be, eat there. The food is drugged and you will end up like the rest of the mouth-breathing, tracksuit-clad morons you previously disdained. And most importantly of all:

3. Do not, ever, regardless of the circumstances, make direct contact with any other guest/inmate. Conversation will be required, on occasion, with the guards/staff, but this should be kept to the bare minimum. "Beer, two, now" or "Bike hire, where, now" will suffice. DO NOT speak to or touch the other guests, as they will almost certainly be infected with the F-virus (fuckwittius cocktwatianus). I have personally seen people - seemingly normal, healthy people - make conversation with the evil daft, leading to an invitation to get together for a bike ride the next day and their inevitable disappearance.

4. If you have children, you will have no choice but to go swimming in what I call "the hive" and what "the others" call "the pool". It's like walking into a moist, overheated cavern full of cunts. DO NOT SWALLOW THE WATER. And get out as soon as you can.

5. When walking in the forest, stay alert. The controllers let the victims have bicycles, even though it is abundantly clear that they lack the basic coordination or understanding to control the bloody things. Listen out for the sounds of approaching doom - screeches of "Wayne, I cahn make ver fuckn fing stop!" or "har har didjoo see ver look on vat old bloke's face when I kicked im into the bushes". Protect your loved ones and return to the relative safety of your lodge as soon as possible.

As with global thermonuclear war, the only winning move is not to play. But if you cannot avoid exposure, follow these simple instructions and you should live to fight another day.*

*I accept no liability for injury, death, loss of or damage to possessions, descent into lunacy or discovery of lumps in the danglies resulting from any advice provided in this blog.

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