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Dawn of the Dead

London's transport has gone teetotal, but when they banned the booze little did they realise that the underground's unique atmospheric concoction of alcohol fumes and tramps piss was all that had been keeping the rabid rodents in the tunnels at bay. Now, like Super Rats liberated from their kryptonite, they are at large, biting the Hush Puppied ankles of unsuspecting commuters and turning them into roaming clans of directionless zombies (not to be mistaken for tourists). This is a call to arms, London – we are under attack!

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Get Fit

When it comes to getting leaner and meaner than M. Bison, Gymbox (Covent Garden, Holborn and Bank, 020 7395 0270) doesn't pull any punches. We recommend Bitch Boxing for the ladies, White Collar Boxing for the stressed-out city boys and the Warrior Workout just in case you find yourself in a situation where you need to kick some putrescent zombie ass with hastily improvised weapons.

It starts

Of course, like any metropolis-wide disaster, it's probably going to take a while for the news of our imminent doom to spread - there we were, buying bargain retro furniture at the Greenwich Village Sunday market, watching avant garde cinema at the Renoir (The Brunswick Centre, WC1N 1AW, 0871 7033 991) supping a cool, free beer while we have our mop chopped at the Wacky Barber (76 Long Lane, EC1A 9ET, 020 7600 6408), when suddenly we hear the low, rumbling moan of an army of zombified city folk...

Arm yourself

When it comes to incapacitating zombies, you need a good arsenal of inventive weapons and they don't come much more inventive than the veritable armoury of S&M whips, nets, chains and club-like prosthetics than Amora, the sex theme park (Trocadero, W1D 7ER, 020 7432 3244). Grabbing the spikiest spanking paddles we can find and some of Hatchet Harry's rubbery weapons of choice, we start laying waste to the wandering vegetables in a gory maelstrom of self-preservation. Bam. Splat. Pa-doink. There are bits of zombie everywhere.

Loot loot loot

It wouldn't be an apocalyptic disaster without a little looting, though. Where should we go? Selfridges? Harrods? Lets face it we need something small enough to carry while running away from Frankenstein's army, but valuable enough to barter with for food if push comes to shove. That leaves us with two options – the Burlington Arcade (Piccadilly, Burlington Arcade, W1J 0HH) which is packed full of bespoke, boutique jewellers (plus a fur shop if you're looking for a good target for casual arson) or that gleaming Mecca of compact technology, the Apple Store (235 Regent Street, W1B 2EL, 020 7153 9000).

The last stand

We soon realise there's only one thing for it – we're going to have to fight our way out and find somewhere to hide until the Americans (or the Bristolians) come to save our city. If we can make it to the Whole Foods Market (63–97 Kensington High Street, W8 5SE, 0207 368 4500), not only can we hole up on their basement level but there's more delicious world food than you can shake a severed arm at – 80,000 sq ft of it in fact. Take courage, Londoners, your loved ones may have turned into brain-dead creatures of the netherworld, but while there's a 'make your own nut-butter' counter to play with, life is still worth fighting for.

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