EXCERPTS FROM
THE WORST-CASE
SCENARIO SURVIVAL
HANDBOOK: ADOLESCENT
FEMALE EDITION.
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How to Escape From Killer Bees
Well, you probably won't be able to outrun them. And, as far as running through bushes or high weeds for cover, get real. The OfficeMax parking lot, where I've been staking out that bitch Kelly, who I know stole my Marc Jacobs knockoff bag from my gym locker, doesn't even have any plants in it. I know she will eventually take my bag to work and then I will—aha!—surprise her and get my bag back. So, anyway, the odds are you'll be stung on the lips by at least two of the bees, and your lips will swell, and you'll find out what you'd look like with collagen injections without having to pay for them. So you should probably carry around a little pocket mirror so you can see what your lips will look like. Or I guess you could use a car's side mirror. I mean, why does Kelly act all like, "Yeah, I had injections. They weren't expensive at all," implying that I couldn't afford the $700 for injections. I mean, I could totally afford that, but why would I even bother? She's a whore. I'm going to call her "Whorelips" from now on.
How to Survive Adrift at Sea
Random House Dictionary defines the word "adrift" as "floating without control; drifting; not anchored or moored: The survivors were adrift in the rowboat for three days." So, hey. That's good news, right? You're in a boat. It's not like you're going to drown or anything. Count your blessings. That's what our refrigerator magnet says: Count your blessings! At least if you're at sea you can probably work on your tan and your mom won't be all, "Gina, get in here and put some clothes on." You probably won't have much food, either, so you can try anorexia and see what it's like for a few days before you're rescued. I totally knew some girls at camp who were anorexic, and they had these red thread bracelets and kept saying, "Yeah, she's pro-ana," and I was like, Why are there so many girls here with the same name?
How to Survive If You Are
in the Line of Gunfire
So the first thing I would do is try and see who is actually firing the gun, because I know this senior, his name is Josh, and he has a gun, and, once, he took it to one of those keggers they have every Friday night. Well, I haven't been invited to one yet, but I heard he totally shot it and it missed this girl's ear by this much. Sometimes I pretend it was Kelly he almost shot. Then I imagine sneaking over and grabbing my Marc Jacobs bag back while she is all, "Oh my God, you almost shot my fucking ear off, Josh!" But in reality it wasn't Whorelips he almost shot—it was Stephanie Enrico. Supposedly, he felt really bad about it and told her, "Well, if you don't tell, I'll take you to the winter formal." And she's only a sophomore! So you never know. You might get lucky.
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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
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Excerpts From The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Adolescent Female Edition By Samantha Martin
The Economic Crisis Hits the Markson Family Monopoly Board By Jon Methven
Diary of a Woman Trapped Inside a Man's Body Trapped Inside a Beaver's Body By Colin Nissan
From The Complete Guide to the Care and Training of the Writer in Your Life By David Zeltser
In the Likely Event of My Posthumous Fame By Graham T. Beck
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