You've survived the apocalypse. Empty-handed, but still. Now a genie makes you an offer -- guns or food?
Congratulations Spaceperson Jones! Your spaceship has just landed on Earth, and it had the providence to land 10 minutes after the big one dropped and the apocalypse happened. That's a good thing! You're alive and in good health!
What's bad is that you had to bail out of your spaceship, which went and crashed off in the distance somewhere in a horrible flaming wreck. That leaves you with a spacesuit, a Leatherman-brand multitool, a parachute, and just about nothing else.
You've landed in a fairly non-descript suburban area, which the launch zone suggested should be in suburban Pittsburgh somewhere. Looking around you, you see a lot of burned out buildings, some feral animals, and the suggestion that there are people around (although you have not yet seen any actual people).
You're about to simulataneously curse and laud your luck, when the Great Gazoo of Flintstones fame appears over your shoulder. You're fairly confident this is not a radiation-posining induced halluncination, so you listen in as he makes you an offer:
"Greetings Spaceperson Jones! Welcome to post-apocalypse Earth! Things are bad, but I can make them a little better! I can give you the choice of two shopping carts!
- One has two Mossberg 930 Shotguns along with ten cases of steel shells (that's 2500 shells in all). There's two weeks' worth of MREs piled on top of the shopping cart to eat.
- One has a year of freeze dried food along with a basic argicultural kit, including basic gardening tools and hearty seeds accustomed to growing in this relatively fertile Pennslyvania climate.
You only get one, and then you're on your own. The shopping carts themselves are of special design, so they wheel around almost frictionlessly regardless of the weight of their contents.
You've got five minutes to decide."
You're on the clock, Spaceperson Jones! Which is it, the guns or the seeds?