“What are you doing? You won’t get away with this!” Sarah
screamed.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Brenda said, smiling like a Cheshire
cat. “You’ll love being a zombie. Beats workin’ at the mill.
Plus, you’ll never have to leave the cemetery – your favorite
spot!”

“No!” Sarah screamed, trying to free herself from the table. It
was no use. She was tied down too tightly. Brenda grabbed
her leg. Sarah kicked hard to free herself, but she was
held down long enough for Brenda to inject the needle.

“Zombie blood, sweet little Sarah. Shh, pretty soon you’ll be
eating brains and haunting the living with the best of ‘em.”

Sarah gasped and then slumped over. Pleased, Brenda
reached for her duffel bag full of money. “We’ll need to get
you some good zombie clothes. Come on, let’s head over
to Walmart.”

Sarah stared straight ahead with hollow eyes, reaching
inside her purse for her American Express card. “Ooh, I feel
so spethal.” Sarah said.

“What?”

“Spethal?”

“Damn, I gave you the wrong shot!”