"Mornin' Sunshine!" I heard Michael yell into the bedroom.

       "This. Better. Be. Good," I replied.

       "Oh, it is buddy! We made-ready- ta da! Waffles!"

       "REALLY?" I asked surprised.

       "Yep! With butter and syrup and sprinkles and more syrup!" He said proudly.

       That breakfast was one of the best ones ever. We all ate and talked until we were all had bulging bellies. And I know you may be saying we have too much food, but we have two storage rooms filled with food. Those are the canned products. Believe me, we're good on food. And we don't eat this much every meal. Mostly just canned stuff and chicken nuggets. Now just to work on shooting.

       "No. No. No. You can't always rely on the scope to tell you where you are aiming. NO! Get that facing forward. GET THAT POINTED AWAY FROM ME!" Screamed Michael two days later.

       "Sorry! But why do I have to treat this machine gun like it's a pistol that fits on my pocket!" I complained.

       "Because it helps you become more skilled," Joe replied.

       "Fine. But I can't just dual-wield this baby and mow hoardes zombies without wasting a bullet. And how is the new gun coming Michael?"

       "First of all, I miss too, not as much as you, and I can move more fluently with these." Michael replied holding up his pistols. He named them Lone and Survivor. Why? I don't know.

       "And," he continued,"not to well." The hardest part is getting it to launch the footballs without them blowing up too soon. You and Aaron can take a ride with me and try it on the ice cream shop. We took all of the food anyway, and I want to see an explosion!" He sounded so happy at the thought of blowing stuff up.

       "Ok then," said Aaron emerging out of the base,"How about at three?"

       "Good," I replied

       "Great!" replied Michael.

       Three would be a long time to wait