Apocalypse transmission: What now?

So, you've managed to escape the apocalypse. Lucky you. News.com.au's servers were fortified and withstood the mayhem to deliver the above transmission. We are here to help.

I know you wish you'd trusted Julia Gillard before. And laughed in the face of NASA. Perhaps spent your time preparing for zombies instead of making memes. We understand, hindsight is a bitch. Take these lessons with you into the new world.

But here we are. What now?

First off: don't bother working out. Now is not the time. Just because you're in a bunker with tinned tomatoes and it seems like a worthwhile decision to kill the boredom, it isn't. You can't afford to let your guard down. You're not Hollywood hunk Will Smith in I Am Legend. Let the dream go and focus on getting the hell out of where you are.

Naturally you're dressed like Mad Max. Keep your invisibility cloak and gold-plated telescope close at hand. Especially the 'scope: you're going to need it when you're spying on PSY. We always knew there was something a bit off about that guy. One of the best things about the apocalypse is an end to the boy band era. If you do happen to run into a Zombie Harry Styles, just aim straight for the jugular, then tell him Taylor Swift's just not that into him.

WHO TO TRUST

There will be two types of people you will face. The flesh-eating zombie corps and those smart guys we thought were freaks up until a minute ago - the survivalists.

Your real problem is the face-eating-looting crazies. Who knows where they came from but they're armed, they're organised, they're dangerous; and they're probably high on bath salts. Avoid them at all costs. If you can, protect yourself with a cricket bat and head for the Winchester. You'll find Simon Pegg and Nick Frost there, nursing a pint and waiting for this whole thing to blow over.

The survivalists will emerge from their bunkers. They'll just look for supplies to get them through until the next "apocalypse" and return underground to play Solitaire. Make friends with them so you can hang out in their five-star bunker and down French champagne. These are the good guys.

If all else fails, find a politician. If your best transport bet is a surfboard, hunt down Wayne Swan in the Parliament House bunker, he has one stashed away. Looking for Bear Grylls? Watch out for Barnaby Joyce floating past on an arc. And get on board. Don't forget, no matter what Penny Wong says about her fancy apocalypse-proof calculator - do not trust her with your last dollars. It will be fatal.

Not ready to deal with the outside world just yet? This guy can help kill a few years with the best ever distraction.

SAVE YOURSELF

You're going to need sustenance. Don't believe the hype about a Twinkie shortage; you must track these delicious apocalypse-proof treats down and gorge yourself on them. It may be your last meal. If you don't like the taste of limbs, that is.

Most of the earth is scorched so self-sufficiency will be difficult. If you can avoid being detained, this Chinese farmer should know what to do. If he doesn't, then try and scab some spam and rice off Bear Grylls. And urine. You know that guy will have plenty of urine.

WHERE TO GO

If you are in New York. Run. We learned from the 2009 documentary 2012 that it is not the safest place to be. It's been washed away, and the Statue of Liberty, as foreshadowed by Cloverfield, has been decapitated. Even if you find a dry spot, that roll-away head could cause you some problems or provide a nesting spot for radioactive rats.

One of your best bets is to make your way to Bugarach, France and await further instructions. The UFO is coming. Just ask the 250 journalists that have been there for a week.

If you're in Mount Rtanj in Serbia or Sirince in Turkey, and you're reading this, then they were right all along. You're safe.

Our tip? Do your best to salvage a record player, a copy of Dark Side of the Moon on LP, a member of the opposite sex and find a nice quiet beach. It is time to procreate. Now. While you still have your face and your dignity.

But, if you are on bedroom floor, smothered in vaseline and pretending you're a slug as you read this, we are sorry, we cannot help.