You are JOHN PROCTOR, just another survivor of the nuclear winter. On this utterly banal day of March, you are busy twiddling your thumbs inside your bunker. It is quite a cozy bunker : no humidity problems, well heated, looking South... In short, it is quite an easy-to-live-in bunker.
You live with BARRINGTON, your loyal bunkermate and lifelong friend. You like MARIE LAFORET, poetry, daisies and BRUCE WILLIS. You could quote Die Hard start to finish by heart. Your monotonous and miserable existence is punctuated by regular trips to town, a few hundred meters below. You walk there every other day to shop for groceries and enjoy a few drinks. Everyone in town seems to like you.