“Are you suggesting I’m working with thezombies? That I paid them to pretend toattack me so that I’d trick you into letting me join you?”“Did you?” Mr. Holland demanded.“Yeah, okay,” I said in a sugar-sweet tone. “You’re right. I was having dinner with Zombie Carl the other night. You know, steaks, rare, and a bottle of vintage type A. He told me all his secrets, but too bad for you I promised him I wouldn’t tell. In exchange I asked him to gather hisbest undead buddies and stalk me throughmy friend’s yard. And oh, yeah, it wastotally fine if they wanted to use me as an all-night dinner buffet, because having organs is so last season.”