Here’s how I wanna die (for those who wanna know): I want to be pinned to the bed face-down while a zombified version of my childhood cat Tabitha slowly eats me out, butthole-first. She burrows her way through my body before dining on my brain as dessert. And, no, this isn’t some pervy sex thing. I just want to give back to the (zombie) cat who took care of my family when daddy couldn’t fix computers after that accident with a Wang terminal down in New Amsterdam, the one owned by that yellow-haired girl that always talks about someone who wants to believe.