You step out of your car as you simultaneously grab a small bag of food from a nearby drug store. You give out a lonely sigh as you close the car door and walk toward the doorstep of your small house. Right when you touch the door handle, you hear the roar of engines. You dismiss the sound as just the R.A.F. doing their afternoon runs. You then look to the skies, and then you see them. You quickly sprint into your house to grab your pistol before bolting out the door toward your car. The car gives out a swift puff of smoke as you hit the ignition. You look toward the flying armada of twin engine bombers, they seem to be heading toward London. You hit the gas pedal! Immediately you rush to your air-raid shelter, but in your mind, this is no ordinary raid. This is an invasion. You park your car in front of a house and rush toward the entryway of the shelter. You close the door with no second thoughts. You admire the fact that it's still standing after around thirty years. You then climb into a small compartment. Inside are a handful of ammunition in case of a hostile visitor comes a-knocking at the door, food to last you a month, some binoculars and a blanket fitted with leaves atop to give the camouflaged look.