"What's our game plan?" April asked in the middle of the dinner that finally emptied their freezer. Ron supposedly sent someone trustworthy to deliver a few dozen pounds of fresh venison and vegetables, but they had no way of knowing when that would ever show up. "In case of... you know?"

"Looters?" Andy furrowed his brow in obviously deep thought over the question. "Ron did give you that handgun for your birthday right? If someone wants our Chef Boyardee then-"

"Babe, no. That's not what I'm talking about," she admonished him but tried to remember if they had even brought that with them. It might be somewhere in the shed buried underneath half a dozen Johnny Karate promotional stands. "I'm talking about the inevitable end of this virus thing."

Andy's eyes went wide. His tone was solemn when he asked, "Terminators?"

April waited for him to turn and face her, fork twirling in her hand with a mostly cooked prepackaged pot sticker impaled on the tines. His wide eyes brimmed with fear when she said, simply, "No."

"Oh, thank God. What did you mean?"

"Zombies," she said. She darted her eyes to the curtains covering the nearby window and then to Andy. "What is our game plan for when things get really bad and we're the last ones alive."

"I'm pretty sure we've talked about this before," Andy's terror sank away into a reminiscent daze for a second. "Like, our second date or something. I'm pretty sure we were in a Best Buy and you asked me if being there was a death sentence in a zombie apocalypse."

"And?"

"And I said that it's the worst idea ever. There's no food, there's probably some water but I don't wanna drink from a toilet again," Andy said it as if from memory. "There's so many better places. We'd get bored of all the lame movies and stuff in a Best Buy. Plus, all the glass doors and stuff would be super hard to make safe."

"So? What's the plan then? We know it's not Best Buy," April said, pushing down with all her will the smile in response to Andy's vivid recollection of a silly question. "Do we even go out anywhere?"

"Amazon warehouse?" Andy offered.

"No, too obvious. It'll be dry in a week," she took a bite of her chilling food as she thought. "I mean, we could stay home..."

"We already stay home," Andy said with an audible sigh afterwards. "Not that I'm complaining. We get to eat whatever we want, I get paid more than I did before I got unemployment, and you get to stay home and never get dressed which is pretty awesome. Why shouldn't we just stay home?"

"And do what? Board up the windows and read? Zombies means no electricity or water, Andy."

"I lived in a pit. I can handle a little dirt," Andy's food was already gone so he simply tapped his fork against his plate. Being alone together all the time wasn't at all a problem for the two of them, though having very little way of being apart was resulting in not much going on in the house outside of a few hot spots. "Besides, Ron probably knows how to nail a door closed and I can move stuff in front of other stuff to stop zombies from getting in."

"You haven't worked out in weeks, though," April said with another side eye aimed at the windows.

"That's totally not true," he said and April could hear the grin on his face. "We've been working out like crazy, babe."

"Does that count?" she asked him.

"In a zombie apocalypse it's, like, the only exercise that matters, probably."

"So the plan is stay home and... exercise," April said with a distinct weight on that word that she knew would make Andy chuckle. She was right. "Board up everything, pretend we don't exist, and do what? Starve?"

"Well, maybe once Ron's delivery guy gets here we can figure out how much more canned junk we need," Andy looked over at the cabinets closed but stocked full of cheap soups and a half-dozen of the Grail, the ravioli in vaguely tomato-based sauce. "And then we can stock up for, like, ten years and-"

"I don't think we can afford that-"

"And then we can stay in here until humanity's wiped out and we're the last two survivors on Earth," Andy reached across the table for her hand. Her hand slunk into his, fitting together perfectly as usual. "And then we'll have all the Chef to ourselves. So while the zombies are all starving we can stay holed up in here."

"Exercising," April said with that smile creeping back up on her face in the dim light of a kitchen bulb about to die.

"Exercising," he repeated before leaning over their small dining table that barely fit in the room, kissing April. When his lips left hers, he still had a grin on his face. "Wanna start early?"

Even though this was a daily occurrence, months into a self-quarantine with no end immediately in sight, April couldn't imagine doing anything other than standing up with Andy and practically leaping onto him in response. Maybe when faced with an actual zombie apocalypse but for now the hypothetical was kinda doing it for her.