“Mr. Awkward rolls up between us, lights a cigarette, makes himself comfortable. It’s the same bastard who shows up after you’ve bumped uglies with a stranger.”

“He reaches down and tugs his pant leg up. The gold cuff wrapped around his ankle is decorated with Smurf stickers. "One of the other collectors did this after I crashed last night. Can you believe that mess? I can't get the damn things off.”

“Her quasi-smile blossoms. "I shouldn't be scared," she says, and it sounds like something between a statement and a question."You should be terrified," I say. Because I'm going to show you dance moves that'll have you begging for my shit.”

“Max dances around in a circle with one leg pulled up, and people move away as if he's mentally unstable. He and I are the only collectors that like to remain visible to the living. The other four roll incognito. Max finishes his dance and brushes his shoulders off. "What the hell was that?" I ask."My new move," he says matter-of-factly.My fellow collector is six years older than me but acts like he's thirteen. We met a couple of years ago after he kicked the bucket and came onboard. He talks so fast, I have trouble understanding him sometimes. I like to think he was the World's Best Car Salesman before he croaked.”

“And the band—oh, sweet mercy—the band. They're like a cross between mini Justin Biebers and the Jonas Brothers, and the Halloween covers they're playing make my ears bleed.”

“Speak up, Charlie,” I say. “If you have something to say, then say it out loud.”

“Big surprise. You didn't dress up.""I came as Awesome Sauce," I say. "You probably wouldn't recognize it.”