This is possibly the worst idea anyone has ever had in the history of humankind – other than the Naperville North traffic flow. If there ever really was a zombie apocalypse, I would honestly just give up and accept my fate – do I really want to spend the rest of my life in hiding, having to forage in the woods for berries instead of foraging in my fridge for parmesan cheese? But I was asked this question one day, and in the ~1 minute I had to come up with an idea, this is what I got: bunk with the most unhinged, definitely-has-a-nuclear-bunker celebrity I can think of. The obvious choice for this would be Tom Cruise, Scientologist supreme.
Look at his eyes…his soulless eyes… they’re devoid of all human emotion.
Let’s cut that nightmare fuel with a quick flashback – I was nine, my brother was thirteen and in his zombie phase. He showed me a 5 second clip from World War Z of zombies piling on top of each other to breach a wall. I couldn’t sleep for about a week after, and he’s probably the reason I’ve gone 17 years without ever watching a horror movie. So when I say I’d suck it up and die, know that yes, I’m a coward, but I’m also realistic. I held a bazooka once at Cantigny Park, but that’s the extent of my weapons expertise. Don’t even get me started on long-distance running.
So back to my soon-to-be best friend Tom Cruise. I’ll break this up into individual steps just to ease the burden of absurdity you’re about to endure.
Step 1: Retail therapy
I’m not sure what brand I’d choose (Prada, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, etc.) but I want to choose something garishly expensive, ugly, and eye-catching (so probably Balenciaga). Also, it has to come in a set of carry-on and check-in luggage (this is VERY important). If the world is ending, I don’t think my parents would mind helping me in my survival master plan and spend a few thousand on a designer luggage set.
Step 2: Your package has arrived
Well, I should have added a zeroth step: convince my parents this isn’t ridiculous (which it is) so they go along with step 2. I get into the check-in suitcase, and my parents and I embark on a road trip to Tom Cruise’s house. I know he probably has seven, but we’ll figure out where he’s at somehow. Granted that I have at least a few hours between finding out there’s been a zombie apocalypse and the zombies reaching me, I should be able to figure out how to get onto the dark web and find his address. For legal reasons, this is a joke. I don’t care about Tom Cruise’s home address.
Step 3: Home sweet home
In Hollywood heist format, my parents put on obviously fake mustaches and jumpsuits (my dad would definitely agree to this) and drop off the suitcases (with me!) on his doorstep. Hypothetically, Tom Cruise sees the luggage, thinks “Hmm. Thanks Balenciaga for the ugliest luggage set I’ve ever seen. I’ll take it!” and brings it inside his house.
Step 4: Let’s hope I have a winning smile
Well, obviously he’ll notice an abnormality when the check-in suitcase is a couple pounds too heavy, so he will open it, and ergo find me. Here’s where things get risky. Knowing Tom Cruise and Balenciaga, there’s a chance he will think I’m part of the PR and it’s some weird avante-garde conceptual art political statement thing and take me in. If he doesn’t, which he probably won’t because why would you take in a 17 year old child that you find in a luggage PR gift, I’ll have to use my fast wit, infinite charm, and pearly whites to convince him to let me stay. Easier said than done.
Step 5: An unbreakable bond
If steps 1-4 go well (heavy emphasis on the if), I’ll have an in. At this point, I convince my new best friend Tom Cruise to let me stay in his top secret Scientologist bunker with him. He obviously says yes because, as I said before, we’re best friends, and we live out the rest of our days in a bunker the size of an airplane hangar with all his A-List celebrity friends. Tom Cruise’s birthday is a day after mine – so we would obviously get a vanilla chocolate marble cake for our joint birthday party and watch fireworks for July 4th (okay maybe not fireworks but definitely distress flares). Side note: I googled the current list of Scientologists, and turns out Nancy Cartwright (voices Bart Simpson), John Travolta, Michael Peña (Luis from Ant-Man), Elisabeth Moss, and Marisol Nichols (not quite A-List but she was on Riverdale and went to North which is a bizarre combination and merits entrance into the bunker) are all Scientologists. What the heck.
Step 6: Post-apocalypse income
Assuming the zombie apocalypse happens before I go to college, I’d eventually come out of the bunker years older and without a college education. This is by no means a hindrance to my possible success, but you should know I’m a lazy person, so if there’s a way I can make money in a post-apocalyptic world without going to college, I’m in. If I’m spending years underground with famous people, hopefully they’ll trust me enough to give me their autographs. Again, it’s Tom Cruise’s bunker, and he probably has a LOT of famous people there. Lots of famous people = lots of autographs = lots of money from selling said autographs to teens who are into the “vintage aesthetic” (if the apocalypse takes 15 years to blow over, I’m sure an autograph from Jerry Seinfeld would get me at least 20k).
Step 7: Die knowing that I tricked Tom Cruise into saving my life
Sweet, sweet victory.
If you’re still reading this, either you’re my assigned commenter or you have an extremely strong sense of self will. Either way, I’m so sorry and I hope you see now why I’d let the zombies take me. This is the alternative.
Hi Anjana! Your blog was such an entertaining read! You are so creative, and your humorous voice shines through your writing. I haven’t given too much thought as to how I would survive a zombie apocalypse, but your plan to crash Tom Cruise’s bunker sounds good to me. I just googled it, and he built a 2,000-square-foot, $10 million bunker underneath one of his houses to prepare for the end of the world. Reportedly, he plans to use the bunker in order to protect himself and other Scientologists (and probably his family?) from a nuclear attack or some other disaster, including a zombie apocalypse! Due to my love for reality television and celebrity drama, I happen to know some random facts about Tom Cruise and his divorce from Katie Holmes! She filed for divorce in 2012, and it was settled in 10 days, making it the shortest in the history of Hollywood. Reportedly, she filed because she wanted to protect their daughter, Suri, from Scientology, allowing her to win full custody in order to keep her away from all things Scientology-related. Well, if I make it out of the zombie apocalypse, I expect a full report on everything you have learned from being stranded in Tom Cruise’s bunker, and I look forward to it!
Anjana, I gravitated towards your blog while scrolling around on the class dashboard. The title was so intriguing that I had to click in and read more, and it’s a decision I do not regret. Your blog was so entertaining and I admit that I did laugh a few times while reading it. Similarly to you, I was around 8 or 9 when I was exposed to zombie films and honestly it was the most traumatizing thing ever. I remember always locking the doors around my house during the day because I thought I was going to die if they were left open. Therefore, like you, I have also lasted 17 years without watching a horror film. I loved how thorough you were with your steps and plan to trick Tom Cruise, and honestly it seems like something doable. He would definitely without a doubt allow you to stay in his bunker. Maybe you and Tom will become best friends during your time in the bunker and he will be kind enough to provide you with enough money to no longer need to work after the apocalypse, so either way it wouldn’t matter if you end up without a college education. In response to the end of your blog, I do in fact have a very strong sense of self-will, but not to worry, your blog was so entertaining to read that I would be fine if I didn’t have any at all. Thank you for a fun blog!
Anjana, you have created yet again a literary masterpiece. Not only do you engage the reader with your superior word choice and complex sentence structure, you keep them on their toes with unsettling images of Tom Cruise and a random man in a suitcase. If I’m being honest, this plan sounds amazing. We all know the super wealthy and powerful have access to secure bunkers that will save them from nuclear war or global warming’s final hurrah. Us regular people wouldn’t have access to these safe havens so forging a connection with Tom Cruise and gaining access to his bunker is genius. I’m very shocked to hear about his devotion to Scientology (along with many other celebrities). I feel like if you pretend to believe in the same thing, he would be excited by your shared interest and offer you a spot in the bunker. Just remember to explicitly state you need to hide in the bunker to escape Xenu’s attack on the Earth. I also appreciate your thoughts regarding your future post-zombie apocalypse, further proving your genius and mind for survival. I definitely think you would be able to obtain various celebrity autographs and later sell them. But my one question would be how would other (normal) people survive the apocalypse? Wouldn’t the zombies kill those without bunkers? Unless… somehow the zombie race evolves and becomes more human-like despite being dead. Do you think these zombies would want to buy your autographs? Let me know what you think!
Anjana, this was way too entertaining. The images made it even more perfect. I didn’t know Tom Cruise’s birthday was right after yours, so maybe you can both have a huge celebration together surviving each year of the apocalypse. Also, who knows, maybe you can sell some famous autographs to some zombies too. You and Tom Cruise can go on grocery store heists to get those cheap, doughy cookies with frosting (because even celebrities must need those) and if you encounter a zombie you can bribe them with a Jerry Seinfeld autograph. Overall, this scenario is really interesting, and I honestly wonder who’s in more control here–you because you tricked/persuaded Tom Cruise into letting you stay with him or Tom Cruise because he has a random 17-year-old Naperville girl in his house. Although I must ask, what if the zombies infiltrate Tom Cruise from the inside and somehow he becomes a zombie before you can get to him? Will you ship yourself and your PR bag to another celebrity or just accept defeat? I also must express concern because I feel like you and Tom might become too close of friends and be an unstoppable villain duo after watching too many horror movies and attending rich parties. Don’t let money change you, and don’t forget me after you become famous. Also, don’t kill me with a Cantigny park bazooka if I get infected by a zombie. If this scenario ends up happening, promise me you’ll give me a free autograph.