Karrie had never worn white in her life. Not the day of her first communion, not even when she'd dressed as a ghost that one Halloween, but yet here she was...

What the hell had she been thinking getting involved with Ken? Really, Ken- like the doll. He wasn't her type at all. He loved tradition and tuxedos and classic rock, while she adored zombies and punk. And him, of course. What had she been thinking?

From the moment she met him, everything about him irritated her. His pigheadedness, his obnoxious sense of humor, his conservative dress. He could be so hot if he'd just wear a little black once in awhile.

What the hell was she thinking? Of course he was hot. She yearned for him, wanting to rip the clothes off his back, cut through that proper boy-next-door look like a razor through cardboard. Shreds of tuxedo would decorate their room after the ceremony. God, he was sexy.

Thankfully, she got to dress as a zombie bride.