“Why not?”

“Um, because obviously something is very wrong about all this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well last time I checked, werewolves and zombies didn’t exist. Now, not only do they exist, but they’re they walking around and biting each other.”

“Not each other. The zombie didn’t bite back, as far as I could see.”

“We’ve got undeath and lycanthropy, and you’re arguing semantics?”

“Shhh. There’s somebody else out there.”

“Really? Poor sod.”

“I don’t think so. I’m guessing it’s a vampire.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Well, either that or a hair-slicked, cloak-wearing, canine-teeth-gleaming, penetrating-stare, average Joe just bit the werewolf.”

“Really? You sure you’re feeling ok?”

“I’m fine. But I bet that werewolf’s seen better days.”

“Look, maybe we should call somebody.”

“I don’t think a doctor’s going to be much help at this point.”

“Not a doctor! Monster hunters or something.”

“Who you gonna call?”

“Oh God, not them. There’s no ghosts, right?”

“Yet.”