Into the Thai restaurant you lurch, wandering through the kitchen door to where a huge oven stands open. The next thing you know, someone has shoved their elbow into the small of your back, propelled you into the oven, and closed the door. You can feel the sides red-hot already against your skin.

It takes a while for you to die, but fortunately, you pass out from the heat long before that. The last thing you see or hear in this world is a short, bearded guy wearing a grubby blue jumper, dancing around manically and shouting: "Ach, yes, Wullie's gonna eat tonight!"

Anyone for Kentucky Fried Zombie?