25 NBA players who can help you survive a zombie apocalypse

7. Metta World Peace

Metta World Peace is wild card personified. Trying to predict him is like trying to predict cooking time for frozen chicken breast if you don’t defrost it first.

I don’t know if World Peace still has the rage inside of him. It might be lurking in there somewhere. I feel like it’d be worth taking the risk to bring it out of him as long as you focus it away from your person.

This is the situation I see working. You and World Peace are bunkered up in the Palace of Auburn Hills. You’ve been running. You’re tired.

“Hey Metta, maybe take a quick rest on this scorers table I’ve fashioned into a bed. Just take a load off. It’ll be fine.”

When the zombies break in, you trigger the Rube Goldberg machine you set up in advance to launch a soda cup at him. It arcs through the air and lands on his chest.

World Peace’s eyes turn red, but in a good non-zombie way. He jolts to his feet to find the direction the cup came from. His eyes move past the pulleys and makeshift catapult to find a zombie.

It’s not the right zombie, but in this situation every zombie is the right zombie. The rage has been dormant for so long that it rockets out of his arms like a bottle of diet coke with a pack of Mentos in it. Zombies are torn limb from limb. Pieces of mutilated flesh litter the courtside seats.

But you. You’re safe. You smile.