 Thank you for having me. I got to say it's a pleasure to be here with Litquake. I've been given six minutes, but we're told we're bumped up to eight now with the absence of Cage. I'm going to try to get this done in six anyway because that's how I roll. This is a sci-fi and fantasy panel. I'm not sure why I'm a part of that because my book is neither. This is serious stuff. This provovirus is a big deal. And my book, The Zombies for Zombies Advice and Etiquette for the Living Dead, is the world's best-selling program for the recently bitten. Let's go back there. Yes, brains. So in the tradition of Flight of the Bumblebee and the In-N-Out Burger, I'm going to give you a quick tour and try to make my point very precisely the effects of what is called the transition, that 72-hour period from the time that you're bitten until you go through the transition and you are what is called a post-lifer. If anybody you know is ever bitten, you're going to need to know this information. What will the transition feel like? It will go something like this. Lori, start the clock. Hours, zero through ten. Initial wound becomes infected within moments and subject starts to sweat like Louie Armstrong at a rave. Provovirus sets up booth in bloodstream and begins making cold calls to organs. Virus is a smooth talker and doesn't take no for an answer and closes the deal with a free set of sham wows. Tongue turns blue. Hours, 11 through 20. Body temperature starts to escalate. Subject becomes overly sensitive to light and any comments concerning his or her weight. Whimpering can be heard. Certain patients describe a nasty metallic taste in their mouths while others crave ho-hoes. Toe nails curl, knuckles swell. The word pus is bandied about. Hours, 21 through 30. Dark rashes begin to break out all over the body, itching like a son of a bitch. Pours start to secrete green, pasty substance that goes nicely with chips and salsa. The need to urinate constantly becomes an issue even worse than at that kegger in Kenesaw. Muscle spasm nostrils flare and the letter V disappears from the subject's vocabulary. Fingernails loosen and uvial is burst. Ear hair grows exponentially. Ew. Hours, 31 through 40. All rashes unite into one giant rash and vote to secede. Not good. Convulsions emerge as a new pastime. The fever has most likely reached approximately 103 degrees and subjects are swooning like boomers at a Bon Jovi concert. Simple conversation becomes difficult as jaw becomes harder to move and mind begins to downsize while brain outsources. Turn dark yellow and gums brown, unflattering. Hours, 41 through 50. Major organs now resemble WAMO products. Tendons are brittle, which depresses the heck out of most muscle groups. White blood cells have rented a pod packed up and moved to a friendlier locale. Don't even ask about the antibodies. Anger finally surfaces particularly when the voice of Sean Hannity is heard. His brains, however, sound as if they could be tasty. Hours, 51 through 60. Growling has begun in earnest. Skin is now a furignolike hue and it's becoming more difficult to find the right clothes to compliment that tone. Veins turn dark and protrude from the skin to a Stan Winston-like degree. Eyes, too, start to bulge and twitch in their sockets. Mucus flows like champagne at a hip hop after party. Surliness is substantially worse to the point of genuine unpleasantness. Subjects are officially no longer fun to be around. Hours, 61 through 70. An incredible hankering has developed for whoever is handy. Slobbering galore. Walking has become more difficult due to spinal compression, fallen arches, and sagging spirits. Communication skills have been replaced by emphatic groans and occasional scribblings on a whiteboard. Subjects can no longer recognize family or friends, which is not all bad when the doorbell rings at 2.30 a.m. I like that one. Hours, 70 plus. No data provided. The transition is complete and you're officially toast. So what have we learned here today? Well, I'll tell you. It's only a matter of time before someone you know or love gets bitten by a member of the horde. Find this book. Buy this book. Read this book. Your life... Nice. Your life or your post-life will be dramatically improved as a result. Thank you and good day. Thank you.