As sundown approaches at Pinehaven Farm near Wyoming, Minn., one of the barns is stuffed with cowboys and scarecrows. Butchers and sheriffs. Prisoners and aliens. But because their stage is the sprawling, woodsy acreage of Dead End Hayride, these so-called "scare actors" play a blood-soaked, walking-dead version of the above — a soldier bears a large gunshot wound, a pasty-white monk looks .