It’s scary out in the big wide world – especially when there are zombies. I started walking towards town, it was only about a mile away and I figured that I would be able to find a gun there somewhere. But as I started walking, I started thinking, and as I started thinking I started walking more slowly, until I finally stopped and just stood there in the street. People = Guns, Town = People, People = Zombies. I had a problem. I couldn’t simply walk into town unarmed in search of anything. And the more I thought about it the more my equation seemed flawed. Does more people equal more guns? I mean on the surface it seems like it must, but if I though about it, I didn’t know hardly anyone who owned a gun. But the few people I knew who did, owned several each. And those people didn’t live in town. They lived outside of town, in the rural strongholds scattered between the cities, towns, and suburbs. They were rednecks, good-old-boys, and they loved their guns. It was time to reevaluate my plan, and it was definitely time to stop walking towards what would likely be my gruesome death. Rednecks = Guns, Country = Rednecks. I turned around and started walking the opposite direction.

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