Priestly managed to make his way back from the zombie room not much the worse for wear -- just sore. He'd managed to upgrade his pointy stick with an even longer, heavier stick and some duct tape (look, a broom handle with a pointy stick taped to it was totally a respectable improvised weapon, okay?), and best of all, he'd found food.

"Soup's on!" he called, setting the backpack full of canned food on the floor. "Or, okay, canned spaghetti, beans, and fruit's on."

Close enough.