Brad (walks into living room): Like, if zombies ever do come, our only real chance is the attic.
Me: Really? (Tries to register precisely where this line of thinking came from. Eventually gives up.) Like b/c the door's in the closet and they wouldn't be smart enough to look there?
Brad: B/c they're not nimble enough to get up there. Like, the basement's not like a real basement* - b/c it's the bottom floor for the back of the house - and they could get in. (He mutters other things.)
Me: I see.
Brad: Like, if we could get up there and then kick the ladder away, they wouldn't be able to get up there.
Me: They couldn't set it up?
Brad: No, they're not nimble enough.** Unless they were - well, if they were that - that kind of - if they were . . . no, they couldn't. Hopefully we could grab the kitties and some foodstuffs beforehand.
Me: Forget that. If zombies come, it's every kitty for herself . . . Could we sleep up there? Or would we fall through?
Brad: It would be uncomfortable, but we could do it. (Explains the logistics: 2x4s turned on their sides, space b/t them, would need boards, there's a few up there, etc.)
Me: Hmmmm, okay. Any other thoughts?
Brad: No, that's it; I'm just thinking about it. I think about it more than you might think . . . (sees tub of gourmet popcorn Shannon ordered for my birthday sitting on bookshelf; opens it; peers inside) . . . You better eat this before it goes stale.
Me: It's just a little. You can finish it.
(Long silence; Brad eats popcorn.)
Brad (finishes popcorn): And we might have a chance of getting on the roof - of the house - people could find us, rescue us.
Finis.
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*The basement is a very real basement.
**Obviously I didn't catch on to this the first time he said it.
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