October—that surreal time of the year: mistral winds soothe the air and lend it a cooler touch, the trees shed their summer garb in favor of fall’s more regal raiment,  school is in session, long sleeves in fashion and, of course, the living dead emerge from the ground to feed on the unsuspecting.

Yes, it’s October, and that means Halloween can’t be far off. Having a friend or family member dragged off and messily devoured by a pack of desiccated corpulencies can really put a damper on the holidays, so this season, be prepared.

The first thing one must ask when facing the unpleasant prospect of an all-out war between the living and dead is, “Am I prepared?”  

To help you decide just precisely how doomed you are, take the time to fill out the questionnaire below:

Do I and my loved ones have access to a one-month (minimum) supply of fresh water?

Yes__/No__

Are I and my loved ones currently living in a densely populated area, where once-amiable friends and neighbors will inevitably turn on me for my last can of Bush’s baked beans?

Yes__/No__

Are the family pets tasty, nutritious and contain at least 12 grams of protein per serving?

Yes__/No__

Will I be able to muster the courage to put down a family member or loved one that has recently ‘turned’ or will I allow them to turn me in to human jerky?

 Yes__/No__

Do I know how to aim for the head?              

 Yes__/No__

Am I aware that selfless sacrifice to allow a loved one to escape will only result in my reanimation and subsequent attempt to consume said loved one?                                          

Yes__/No__

If you answered ‘no’ to any of the above questions, you’re little more than a walking Hors d’oeuvre, but if you answered nothing but ‘yes’, congratulations! You’ve won the grand prize: the responsibility of  rebuilding the world’s shattered infrastructure and reconstituting its broken spirit.

Though virtually every family knows what to do during the inevitability of a dead uprising, how safe are we? Most of our days aren’t spent in the relative comfort of the neighborhood bunker, but slaving away at work, or in our case, school.

We spend dozens of precious educational hours every semester marching stolidly out of the building during fire drills, cowering in corners for pretend tornadoes or terrorists, sitting in seminars on the dangers of drunk driving—all of which is purported to enhance our chances of surviving long enough to make it out in to the workforce.  If we have time to learn how to escape something as rare as a tornado, why does our curriculum ignore the oppressive and omnipresent danger of zombism?

In its current state, the school is both indefensible against and unprepared for the undead scourge.  A mosh of students without organization or direction at the first shout of, “ZOMBIE!” will be little more than a writhing smorgasbord to the undead menace.

However, a school populated by knowledgeable, fit and practiced young zombie survivalists—trained to be so by rigorous drill—would be a beacon of hope in a world consumed by darkness.

If the school’s administration truly wants us to ‘Be the Best for the World’, it must ensure that we can survive its inevitable, impending, zombie-filled end.