I got out of the car, walked over, and set the egg in the middle of the school parking lot, then ran over it with the Impala while the crowd of confused students watched. I backed up, ran over it again, then repeated this six more times. When I got out and examined the toy, I wasn’t surprised to find it actually looked better than before—not even black smudges from the tire rubber marred the surface. I picked it up and showed it to my audience. “Look at how haunted this toy is, you assholes! Look at it!”
