To avoid drawing any of the flesh-eating amblers toward my hideout, one great sacrifice would have to be made: release the dog into the world. I love my family dog to bits, but he is loudest creature I have ever encountered. He'd surely lead to my demise.
So, set him free to make it as far as he could, then use the major furniture of the house to blockade all the doors and windows; just for good measure. Next, to grab some provisions (everything that would spoil quickly) and some weapons (my brother has a Nerf arsenal, but I'd prefer something along the lines of a kitchen knife). With my stock, I'd head back upstairs; muster all my strength to push my platform bed in front of my bedroom door; then relax from the safety and comfort of the floor of my closet to observe the panic –presumably spreading across Twitter and Snapchat like a wildfire.
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