Let's say you're walking down the lane to your favorite pub -- it's 11am and time for you to partake of the vibrant amber of life.  But then something happens!  An explosion in the distance -- terrorism!  Men with beards, knives clutched in their broken teeth, running towards you.  Are they coming from McCutcheons, which is always closed on Tuesday's?  Maybe they missed their train?  One thing is for sure, these are angry men.  And there you are, on the lane, unfinished screenplay beneath your arm, wearing a pair of jeans and your pajama tops.

They stop to ask directions, the evil black smoke from the village billowing in the background.  They want to know where the local US Consulate office is and you say it's three hours south, if they catch the 13:20.  But the 13:20 is a slow, rough ride so best to wait until tomorrow and catch the 9:40. 

They seem disappointed and ask if your accent is American.  After several moments of internal consultation, you decide to reply that it's not an American accent but, instead, would be classified as "Upper Southern."  Some people say Tennessee, but you'd actually suggest it to be lower Virginia.

The men scream out an oath to the brown people's god and continue running down the lane.  You now realize that you've just had a run in with Lady Cutlington-Smythe's gardeners.  What do you do?

Being ready for disaster seems like a difficult thing for all of us.  We're all very busy with our families and our jobs and our private lives.  Thinking ahead can pose a large problem -- whether it be planning your retirement, getting your tires rotated or convincing the girl next door to haul your ashes. 

Being ready for a disaster, however, is simpler than it sounds.  You  can purchase most survival items the next time you go shopping -- water, canned goods, Keebler Double Fudge Elves and a coordinated selection of alcohol are some survival basics.  We all know you can use bottlecaps or young women as currency in a post apocalyptic wasteland, if it ever comes to that.  Surround yourself with these items, just in case.  Young women are easy to keep.  They don't eat much as long as you constantly comment on their hips and they're quite handy to have around for when you tear down the curtains in a drunken rage or rip your jeans on a fencepost.

In our scenario, we present you with a very different problem.  You're underdressed and closer to the pub than to your house.  An explosion has rocked your sleepy community and mad gardeners are on the move.  What should you do?  You should continue to the pub, where you share your story with the usual afternoon crowd -- Arthur Kettlebottom, Old Man Stacy, Marcus de Bouvier and Dirty Phil Reed.  None will believe you with the exception of Old Man Stacy who, as a young man at Ypres 2 saw this same sort of thing.  After his entire regiment had been wiped out -- most of them drowning in the mud -- Stacy had sought shelter in a rain and blood-filled shellhole.  He had been there with a Sergeant Major who had lost both legs and, in shock, drifted silently below the water line.  That mutilated man's last words were, "Quickly boys, look sharp...look sharp..."

Then came the Germans.  They'd had it just as bad -- a ragged bunch of boys pouring through the mud and stink, pounding the dead into the earth with their tattered boots.  Haunted eyes turned to the shellhole and beheld Stacy in what the old man thought were his last moments, then the Hun bastard was blown to pieces by his own artillery.  Covered in gore --

It's here where Dirty Phil Reed stops Old Man Stacy's droning monologue and asks what this has to do with terrorists blowing up the village.  The old man, now in tears, replies that it has nothing to do with the current situation.  He retreats to his lonely corner with two pints of the local and, his hands shaking, proceeds to sob miserably.

It's often believed that there's safety in numbers.  In the case of our scenario, this is correct.  At Ypres, it wasn't correct.  The terrorists from our scenario have a clear destination in mind, and this frees you up to drink merrily.  However, it is advisable that you enjoy your drink outside the building and away from the main entrance.  A picnic table located out back is the best option, preferably overlooking the volunteer-maintained gardens of the ruined Marmas castle. 

(en Espanol)

El Gringo engreido es nuestro enemigo. Tenemos que revelarnos contra la garra opresora que nos estrangula. El sucio capitalista debe ser aplastado bajo la bota de la justicia. A falta de una buena revolucion, al menos hagamos que esos paranoicos turistas yanquis viajen de nuevo. Por amor de Dios! un pequeño incidente y todos se esconden debajo de la cama.