especially to use the 'chance of a lifetime' joke, but you can't act like an idiot. Be charming and respectful. Can you do that for me?'
'Nobody is looking for a zombie to be charming and respectful. They're looking for me to devour human flesh and have body parts drop off. What if somebody decides to shoot me in the head?'
'Don't worry, the press conference will be secure. Would you like to watch your television special after you're done with breakfast?'
'You have it recorded?'
'Of course.'
'Hell yeah!'
'Jeez, do you think they could pad this thing out any more?' asked Stanley, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth as they sat in his room; Stanley on the bed, Veronica on the recliner.
'Well, they had to fill a two-hour special,' said Veronica.
'They didn't even get my biographical material right.' Stanley picked up the remote control and fast-forwarded through a set of commercials. 'Ah, here we go.'
He watched on the television screen as Brant pulled the lever and the machine started pumping chemicals into his dead body.
Stanley shut off the video. 'Maybe I don't want to see this.'
'You've only been re-alive for a day,' said Veronica. 'You still need time to adjust.'
'Yeah.'
'Are you going to be okay?'
'Yeah, why? Do I look like I'm not?'
'You just look a bit disturbed.'
'Nah.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'So if you died, would you want to come back?'
'Absolutely.'
'Even if you looked like this?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'I don't know. I just would.'
'That's a lousy answer.'
'I'm not the one who's supposed to be giving answers,' said Veronica.
An unknown voice crackled over the speaker. 'Dr. Lamber is ready for Mr. Dabernath.'
Veronica got up off the recliner. 'Okay, let's go prove that you're sane.'
CHAPTER SIX
Stanley shifted uncomfortably as he sat across the table from Dr. Lamber. They were in a small room with mold-green walls (though not from actual mold) and absolutely nothing in the way of decor. Dr. Lamber, who was middle-aged, clean-shaven, and completely bald, had a piercing stare that really creeped Stanley out. He wished there were posters on the walls, maybe something in an 'It's Good To Be Sane!' motif, to distract him.
'Are you ready to begin?' asked Dr. Lamber in his quiet, emotion-free, oddly eerie voice.
'Yes.'
'What is your name?'
'Stanley Dabernath.'
'Are you certain?'
'Yeah.'
Dr. Lamber nodded in a thoughtful yet eerie manner and wrote something in his notebook. 'Do you know this because you remember your name, or because people in this bunker have recently explained to you that your name is Stanley Dabernath?'
Stanley stared at him for a long moment. 'Are you fucking kidding me?'
Dr. Lamber nodded thoughtfully again and wrote something else in his notebook.
'Did you write something bad?' Stanley asked.
'There are no right or wrong answers here.'
'But did you write something bad?'
'Do you think you gave me justification to write something bad?'
'I don't know. I just don't want to get locked up in a padded cell as an insane cadaver.'
Dr. Lamber nodded thoughtfully and wrote more in his notebook.
'You wrote something even worse, didn't you? Look, I'm sorry I dropped the f-bomb. I wasn't thinking. Let's just move on.'
'When I asked you the question about your name, why did you think I might be kidding?'
'Because it was a very silly question.'
'Why?'
'Because I know my name.'
'I had no way of knowing that you knew.'
'But you asked me again after I said I did know.'
'I see. Did you think I looked like the sort of individual who would ask questions in jest?'
'I don't know. I just met you.'
'I see.'
They sat there in silence.
Dr. Lamber leaned forward. 'What's your middle name?'
'Allen.'
'Spell it.'
'A-L-L-E-N.'
Dr. Lamber shuffled through some papers, glanced at the top of one of them, and nodded, apparently satisfied.
Stanley sighed. 'This is going to be a long interview, isn't it?'
'What made you call it an interview?'
Stanley felt at least thirty-five percent less sane as he walked out of his psychological examination, but he was pretty sure they'd stamp his file 'Not a Whacko.'
'I can't believe you made me go through that,' he told Veronica as they walked down the hallway.
'You've been dead. We have to make sure that a professional finds you mentally competent to sign the contracts that are going to bring lots of money to you and Project Second Chance.'
'Fair enough.'
'Anyway, your physical exam is going to suck much worse.'
'Well, helloooooo Stanley!' said Dr. Arnzin as Stanley walked into the examination room. This guy looked
