Heidegger stomped his way down the corridor, muttering into his beard as he went. That ridiculous oaf Palmer; running headlong into the board meeting with his cheap silk suit in shreds and babbling about a monster, of all things. It was absolutely-

-there was a faint rattle from the shadows.

He paused, eyes narrowing, and with one hand pulled his pistol from its holster and his PHS from his pocket with the other. "Show yourself," he challenged, and both pistol and PHS went flying in opposite directions as he was tackled with a gleeful "HOOOONK!"