text:  Over here, Mr. Thurston. Well, secret agent Zellschmidt. Still wearing the beard, I see. I need the money, Mr. X. How did I know what I was getting into? When I heard they were having trouble with zombies, I thought somebody was watering the liquor. Well, what do you think now? I think I'm scared. Good reason to be, too. A chance of being turned into a zombie at any moment. Oh, don't say that. A glassy-eyed, mindless idiot with no intellect or...