But Emily didn't respond. Instead, she stared, wide-eyed, straight past me, towards the opening of the den. I turned around, and there, equally dumbfo...nded, was Rob the painter."Uhhh, sorry Mr. and Mrs. Scott," he stammered. "I heard a woman shriek, and I thought Emily may have fallen or gotten hurt. I'm so sorry to have interrupted."I looked at him, at a loss for what to say. Then, as I struggled for the right words, I noticed something peculiar -- I was thrusting. Or rather, Emily's legs --. ." he whispered, recognizing the sound almost instantly and running into the closed office before staring in horror at the computer monitor."No... No, it can't be..." the stricken scientist repeated, rushing off into the next, and the next, only to find the same result. The same words printed neatly at the bottom of every screen he checked. Every computer the scientist came to had dropped down into DOS, and the words "C:\>Format C:\" were all followed by "C:\>Y" and accompanied by the horrific. More

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