All of the badness boils under my skin, stingy ginger-ale bubbles fighting to breathe. I unbutton my jeans, slid-ing the zipper open one tooth at a time. I twist to the right and push down the elastic band of my underpants. My left hip arches up, glowing blue in the movie light.
I inscribe three lines, hush hush hush , into my skin.
Ghosts trickle out.
The shape-shifters put on jet packs and follow the monsters to an asteroid.
I put the blade back in the box, and the box back in the bag and press my hand against the wet cuts until the credits roll. Just before the lights come up, I stick my fingers in my mouth.
I taste like dirty quarters.