There is an undeniable undeadness about me--e.g., a marked absence of vitality, corruption of complexion, the stirrings of an unnatural appetite. I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking me half-zombie to begin with.

This being the case, when the dearly departed disinter (or in the event of a Resident Evil-esque viral outbreak) to roam ravenously, glutting on grey matter, they'd be apt to see me as sufficiently kindred to be kept unmolested. I'd be at a unique advantage. While the rest of the yet-living are preoccupied with keeping their skulls intact, I'll be free to be out and about, doing as I very well please (pilfering in preparation for the post-apocalyptic period, for example). Additionally, I'd play the hero to some, covertly aid the cerebrum slurpers against others, dispatch a handful of hordes in all manner of ways purely for the lulz, and generally have myself a hell of a time.