The feedback from the speakers changes and begins blasting death metal music so loudly into the sky that I swear the bridge suspensions are vibrating.The twins were in charge of the music selection.I catch sight of them on the side of the bridge, each with an arm raised, holding up their forefingers and pinkies in a devil sign, head-banging to the beat. They’re mouthing the words to the garbled voice screaming over the intense electric guitar and drums blasting out of the speakers. They might look pretty badass if it weren’t for their hobo clown outfits.It’s the loudest party the Bay Area has ever heard.

So does anyone have a good survival strategy, or is there no hope for getting out of this nightmare?’ asks the Colonel.‘We came up with a big, fat zero. I don’t know how we’re going to survive the blood hunt,’ says Dee.‘That wasn’t the nightmare I was referring to,’ says the Colonel. ‘Death by stupid comments is what I was talking about.