Morris was not to have been heard of again. Bob got the fleech back into its cage, and placed it back on the shelf. The fleech hacked up a rectangular piece of paper,a business card, he could make out a few words. 'Vyyker Advancements' in big red letters dominated the card, and Bob could make out a phone number. This was all he needed. He picked p the late Vyyker's Snuzi, and went to bed.
Down the industrial back-alleys at dawn, a dark figure walked. he wore a low hat, balaclava, and brown trench-coat. You could not tell who he was by looking at him. He walk to his contact. He was a chump by the looks of his attire and lack of a cigar, and was accompanied by a slig, adorning a battered top-hat and a poorly washed suit. The mysterious figure talked in a Russian accent.
"I assume it is all in the package?"
"Yes", spoke the glukkon.
"Meet here in two weeks"
The Slig valet handed him the brown bag. The figure turned, and rose his hat to reveal a Mudokon face. he lowered is hat, at walked away.
__________________
End Transmission.
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