
I quiver with anticipation. Soon, my house will be filled with zombies and ghouls hungry as empty graves, their thirst overwhelming, and I must not disappoint. For the young, I prepare punches. To chill their brew, I freeze apple juice in rubber gloves. When it is time to serve, I discard the glove and float the frozen hands in the punchbowl. My little monsters like a … [Read more...]