Meeting, merging with other globs, other seething masses of roiling, writhing slime. The globs merged, burbled, wriggled, and kept flowing... flowing ...owards the boiler room below.Old Henry had been cleaning, scooping, mopping and wiping for years; he knew the place inside and out, he knew every nook and cranny, and all the machines intimately. And he had never heard a sound like that; like a ton of vanilla pudding pouring down the stairs... what in tarnation could make that kind of sound?. I convinced him that it was a no win for him. You're a promising young architect that's never been in trouble and were protecting your fiancee from the advances of a biker that's been in prison longer than he's been out" So why the handcuffs?" I asked."Those belong to the FBI. It seems that the biker you killed was also an informant and so they'd like to ask you a few questions before you're allowed to leave" When can I leave?" Couple of days. Basically, you could go home now except you lost a. More

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