He recalls that experience in a smooth, speedy story, “The Monster Mash,” but these days he’s not sure he liked it too much — the disembowelings, the coolers of brains, the stench of decomposing corpses (“the smell of job security,” as one pathologist puts it) terrify him.

What changes will be wrought in the character and condition of mankind, as the millennium advances and rolls blissfully away.

What, ma'am! placing her brawny arms akembo, to fall into these fantigues and fantasies, and swound away, as a body may say, and all about a traitorish scape-grace the like of he![…]

to devote one to destruction