Juan of the Dead

Go on a cruise, they said. Learn about other cultures, they said. It'll be fun, they said.

Yeah, I thought my birthday cruise would be all sexy pool boys with fruity drinks and me working on my epic summer tan. Instead, I sacrificed my favorite Jimmy Choos and my gorgeous Coach handbag to some awful earthquake while shopping in a crappy Mexican port. That place is getting zero stars.

Oh yeah, and I sacrificed my life. Lucky for me this totally hunky (but nerdy) anthropologist, Jon, hauled my hot corpse in to the nearby ancient Mayan or whatever temple and performed some sort of creepy voodoo ritual on me.

Forget all the garbage from Hollywood about shuffling, brain-obsessed, homicidal corpses. Maybe that's how it was in the 70's but those misguided souls also thought polyester was a good fashion statement. What the movies got right is that someone always wants to kill off the undead, and I'm no different. I'm too young and too hot to leave the party this soon. I've got a second chance, but Jon and I need to know what's going on with my post-life situation before someone finishes me off for good.