Jimmy nodded at Diana and smiled awkwardly. "Yup, he's dead alright," he said with a grunt. "He's the fourth I've had to send to the promised land in this last half hour."

Jimmy bent down to pick up the broken mop handle, and then moved over to the counter and picked up the fillet knife. His mind was working along the lines of full on survival, and whatever gentle human being he may have been for the last 57 years of his life, had dissipated with the drop of a microwave. He'd killed four people - FOUR. Everything about that fact was so surreal that Jimmy's body was just pumping him full of adrenaline, which kept him from dwelling on it for too long. 

"I don't know what's going on, sweet heart," Jimmy said slyly, in between looking through an assortment of draws and cupboards. "People just started going crazy and attacking each other." Jimmy punched the air, and pulled out a roll of duct tape from behind a stack of plates. "There was talk of a nasty bug on board, this morning. I don't know if that's got anything to do with it; seems unlikely though." 

Jimmy wrapped the fillet knife to the end of the mop handle with the duct tape, layering it several times and tightly. Once he was done, he threw the roll of tape to one side and started slicing at the air with his impromptu spear. 

"This'll do," he said aloud to himself, before remembering he had company. He turned to Diana, "so, I don't suppose you have a plan do you? Was thinking of making a go at the bridge myself. If anyone knows what to do, its the captain. Hell, he's probably already sent out a distress call. Maybe the cavalry is already on its way."