Zombie McDonald's be like:

Yeah can I get 2 burlap sacks, some clean rags, throw in a metal pipe in there, gimme a pack of nails on the side, 4 sheets for the windows, throw in an abandoned car for tha fam, a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, some shotgun shells, 9mm ammo, a pistol with a silencer so the damn Zeeders don’t hear me shooting, a med pack, 2 flashlights, batteries, a rusty crowbar, pocket knife, maybe throw in a canteen of water, yeah I’d like 6 canned beans, 3 canned corn, 7 rolls of duct tape, throw in a radio, a bandana, a military shirt, 2 walkie talkies, ♥♥♥♥ it make that 3 walkie talkies, 3 plastic bags, a seed bag, yeah gimme some soap and cleaning liquid, a lighter, a pack of matches, a can opener, gimme some of those Stir fry (frying pan), throw in some bourbon for the dog, 4 tarps (large), some sheet ropes, aluminium, 9 meters of barbed wire, a gas, some glue, a propane tank, wooden boards for the windows, a ball-peen hammer,

GOOGLE SATELITE ELEVATION DATA CONFIRMS EARTH IS FLAT
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Why was 6 afraid of 7?

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.