"Hi-ho, Jojo! Where's my little snugglepuss?" Michael was a young, impeccably dressed man with the air of a small boy playing dress-up.Joanna composed...her face into a look of chagrin. "Oh, Michael, I'm sorry, Stephanie had to go to town. She won't be back for at least an hour."Michael's face fell. "But, Jojo, she asked me to come right over. I had to leave just as the Professor was setting up his radio. Now I'll never know if Gilligan got off the island!"In her mind, Joanna grimaced. Michael. Saliva from nowhere rushes to help, only serving to break down the coatings, and my face screws up at the bitterness as I start to foam at the mouth, choking. I grapple for the drink, knocking it to the floor, its contents glugging onto the patterned carpet, spoiling its symmetry.There's a sharp knock at the door and a muffled "Housekeeping."I couldn't answer even if I wanted to.The electronic latch disengages, the door opens and I'm vaguely aware of a shriek, then the bed deforming near my. More

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