I lay in a puddle of my own urine. I wished

I lay in a puddle of my own urine. I wished I could get her attention. "Please, help me," I begged with my eyes. But she was too busy with her own life to notice that I was

n't dead. The EMT was texting over my body. Paralyzed I couldn't scream at her to help me. She had tears in her eyes. Her lips were trembling.

The paramedic drew a foul-smelling sheet over my face. "Dammit! I'm not dead!!" I wanted to shout. But then I felt myself floating over the accident scene. I watched the EMTs carry

away the gurney, with me on it. Oh, the horror! I forced my lids to open, just a crack. I saw the EMT's jump about a foot away from me. "Did you see that? It moved," cried one of

the EMT's. "It's not supposed to do that," the other whispered. "It's dead! Dead bodies don't move -" I zoned him out as I tried to move my arms and legs. With a great effort, I pu

lled myself up, shook off the malaise, and ate the living brains out of both EMTs' warm skulls. Absorbing their most recent memories, I knew that more food was just inside the

cranium of Mr. Peebles, who ran the donut shop down the street. Maple bar flavored brains are absolutely divine, so I lurched energetically toward Peebles' Tasty Donut Emporium,

excited at the prospect of doughnuts. Lo and behold, but who should step into my path, but that annoying old lady from next door. "Going somewhere, dear?" she cackled, and added

She reached over and clung my arm. "The dentist? I love the dentist! What's in the box?" My hopes and dreams faded and she stuffed her mouth with a Boston Cream Bismark.