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Stacy got pissed. Losing her memory, finding mangled, unhelpful I.D. in
her pocket, being chased by strangers and now being prevented from calling
911. She bit the morph's wrist hard. He howled in fear and pain and released her. The handset came whirring out of nowhere and knocked the guy to the ground. Manna smiled. "I always was a good shot." The duck morph was hiding under his desk and crying. Manna and Stacy went charging through the lobby of the Furry Broadcasting Network. They ducked through a gift shop, ran through a small health club and headed down a long hallway. "Where are we going?" said Stacy. "Remember I said I ran a beer distribution warehouse? There's a bar down this way and I've made good friends with the owner after getting his place to sign up with us. I think she's sweet on me." A few black and white doors were slammed open and then Stacy found herself in one of the oddest bars she could remember. (Though what she could remember was in doubt). There was little time to let the weird sink in because...
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11/6/2002 7:03:11 PM
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