“Is that what you’re wearing?â€? Lea raised an eyebrow at me. I was wearing khakis and an olive V-neck over a white button down.

“What’s wrong with it?â€? I asked. Lea was wearing underwear and… eyeliner.

“You look like L.L. Bean threw up on you.â€?

“Should I change?â€? I asked, dreading the answer.

“No time,â€? she said, throwing a coat over her lack of dress. “Let’s go. You drive.â€?

We headed for the theatre. On the way I glanced over as Lea took inventory of the items in the bag she’d brought: a Ziploc bag of rice, some bread, a newspaper, a water gun, a laser pointer, a pair of latex gloves. What was I getting into?

“Thanks for coming with me,â€? Lea said as we arrived. “I know you’ll love it.â€?

I wasn’t so sure, as I found myself surrounded by ghouls in garish lingerie and tuxedoes.

We found a pair of seats near the back, between a blond man(?) clad in a gold lamé Speedo and a woman(?) who looked like Cyndi Lauper and Madonna’s love child. As the lights dimmed, I began to shiver with antici—