In the commercials, BurgerBoy (some actor wearing that giant, exaggerated papier-mâché head) delivers everyone’s burgers and shakes straight to their car on roller skates, lickety-split. But here in my bedroom, when BurgerBoy removes his head, there's not much underneath except my stepdad’s corpse. Which is unlikely, since I buried him in the barn’s concrete foundation, so he couldn’t hurt me or my sister or mom again. It's my fault; I insisted on working at BurgerBoy because of those fun commercials. But I didn’t like my manager much, especially when he became our stepdad…and I like him even less right now.