Margarite was struck with a vision in her past. She remembered a girl in school a lot like her daughter who used to pick on her. Using this memory to turn her daughter into something she would prefer to hit with a shovel, she ended the zombie's undead life. Margarite wiped some crocodile tears from her blue eyes, unlocked her mini-van, climbed in, hit the garage opener as she turned on the van and waited.

Vann was an unaccomplished actor. He stuttered, moaned, and shook as he acted his way out of the grocery store and through the mindless masses. Coagulated blood, someone's intestines, and a little bit of brain matter go a long way for an actor finally willing to give his all for his grand finale. As he made his way across the parking lot to his car, Michael Jackson's "Thriller" came on in his head. In a few moments, he was driving down the highway singing it to himself and picking some guts off of his clothing.

Cadillac ditched her red heels 3 miles ago back at the strip club. Her tennis shoes thumped the pavement as she jogged in tight shorts and not much else. Her breasts bounced painfully as she ran. She wished she had taken time to grab a bra or some form of support, but with a bit of reflection she was happier to be alive. A few quick glances revealed she was alone on a stretch of road, so she stopped and stretched her legs. A mini van was quickly coming in her direction. She flagged it down. Cadillac and Margarite were now traveling companions. Margarite even had a torn shirt for Cadillac to wear. They turned on the radio and hoped to hear good news, but the white noise said otherwise.

Harold took a moment to reflect as he barricaded the bathroom door shut, after thoroughly checking the empty bathroom, settled himself down in a stall and let it all go. A fetal position is difficult to maintain while bare ass on a toilet, crying and defecating at the same time, but somehow, he managed. He killed his best friend, Jim. Through teary hands, agitated eyes, and a red face, Harold tried to get a hold o