Zombieland

Oh, America.

I wish I could tell you

that this was still America...

...but I've come to realize that you

can't have a country without people.

And there are no people here.

No! No!

Go back... F***!

No, my friends.

This is now

the United States of Zombieland.

It's amazing how quickly things

can go from bad to total sh*t storm.

And why am I alive when everyone

around me has turned to meat?

It's because of my list of rules.

Rule number one

for surviving Zombieland: Cardio.

F***!

When the virus struck,

for obvious reasons...

...the first ones to go

were the fatties.

Poor fat bastard.

But as the infection spread

and the chaos grew...

...it wasn't enough

to just be fast on your feet.

You had to get a gun

and learn how to use it.

Which leads me to my second rule:

The Double Tap.

In those moments when you're not sure

the undead are really "dead" dead...

...don't get all stingy

with your bullets.

I mean, one more clean shot

to the head...

...and this lady could have avoided

becoming a human Happy Meal.

Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

Wasn't long before the zombies

began to get clever.

When you're at your most vulnerable,

somehow they could just smell it.

Can't a guy take a dumper in peace?

Don't let them catch you pants down.

Beware of bathrooms.

As zombies

began to outnumber humans...

...well, that's when you had to cut

all emotional ties.

If the girls in your neighborhood

are now f***ed-up little monsters...

...well, maybe it's time

to stop driving carpool.

You had to focus

on your own survival...

...which leads to rule number four.

Pretty basic.

Fasten your seat belts.

It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

That guy down there is me.

I'm in Garland, Texas.

And it may look like zombies destroyed

it, but that's actually just Garland.

Two months since patient zero

took a bite of a contaminated burger...

...at a Gas N' Gulp.

Just two months, and I might be the

last non-cannibal freak in the country.

I may seem like

an unlikely survivor...

...with all my phobias

and irritable-bowel syndrome...

...but I had the advantage of never

having any friends or any close family.

I survive because I play it safe

and follow the rules.

My rules.

Sh*t.

Of course.

Motherf***er.

On the bright side, I had found

a place to go number two.

Another rule to surviving

Zombieland:
Travel light.

And I don't mean just luggage.

I've always been kind of a loner.

I avoided people

like they were zombies...

...even before they were zombies.

Now that they are all zombies,

I kind of miss people.

So I'm on my way from

my college dorm in Austin, Texas...

...to Columbus, Ohio, where I'm

hoping my parents are still alive.

Even though we were never

really close...

...it would be nice to see

a familiar face, or any face...

...that doesn't have blood dripping from

its lips and flesh between its teeth.

Thank you.

- What are you looking for?

- Nothing. I just have this list.

No one back there but my duffel bag.

- What's your name?

- Stop. No names.

Keeps us from getting too familiar.

You almost knocked over your alcohol

with your knife.

- That's okay, you don't have to...

- So where you headed?

Columbus. You?

Tallahassee.

No, one for me. One and done,

I always say. I said that once.

You know, Tallahassee and Columbus

are both east.

So?

So, Tallahassee,

you wanna stick together?

- Least for a while?

- Here's the deal, Columbus.

I'm not easy to get along with...

...and I'm sensing

you're a bit of a b*tch...

...so I give this relationship

to about Texarkana.

Really? Yeah.

You'll take me as far as Texarkana.

You're a peppy little spit-f***,

aren't you?

You might wanna buckle up

for safety.

I can tell already

you are gonna get on my nerves.

Even though teaming up

wasn't my style...

...I figured I'd be safer

with Tallahassee.

You see, he was in

the ass-kicking business, and...

Business is good.

It became quickly apparent, however,

that he did have one weakness.

What are we doing here?

Well, take a look.

It's a goddamn Hostess truck.

Yeah, I see that, a Hostess truck.

So what?

I could use a Twinkie.

- You coming?

- Yes. Yeah. One second.

- Are you f***ing with me?

- No.

You should actually limber up

as well.

Especially if we are going down

that hill.

It is very important.

I don't believe in it.

You ever see a lion limber up

before it takes down a gazelle?

- Sno Balls?

- Yeah.

Sno Balls?

Where's the f***ing Twinkies?

I like Sno Balls.

I hate coconut.

Not the taste, consistency.

Fresh.

Oh, this Twinkie thing,

it ain't over yet.

Hey, this may be a bad time...

...but I gotta take the Browns

to the Super Bowl.

- Really?

- Really.

I know, again, so soon?

What can I say?

I have a case of chronic anxiety.

Truth is, I was always kind of phobic.

I found lots of things disturbing.

Like undertow

or department store Santas.

Being alone with a baby.

But the thing I fear more than anything,

yes, even more than zombies...

...f***ing clowns.

When you're afraid of everything

that's out there...

...you quit going out there...

...which is what happened to me

before Zombieland.

Friday night,

third straight week indoors.

"World of Warcraft"...

...leaning tower of pizza boxes...

...Code Red Mountain Dew.

Pride, nowhere.

Dignity, long gone.

Virginity, totally justifiable

to speculate on.

Smooth.

My whole life, all I'd ever wanted

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