Della prised her reluctant spaniel off the

Della prised her reluctant spaniel off the Spanish tourist's lap and got off at Piccadilly Circus to change onto the Bakerloo line. "Della!" The voice was familiar - she turned

and she saw one of her ex-boyfriends, waving at her. He seemed a bit scared. "Della, I need your help" - he whispered, when she approached her. "They're trying to kill me".

Della hated her ex Lenny. He was a paranoid hypochondriac. He grasped Della's big greasy hand and said, "They're trying to kill me, I can feel them. They're dripping this poison in

into the water supply. Both of us will be dead within a week if we don't do something," Della's eyes were wide with fear, shining with fresh tears. Behind

her eyes, the Xeroto that had reconstituted itself in her brain told her she would live to see many splendors, even if her guy and the rest of the town succumbed to the water-borne

the creature in the back of her windpipe was the one who had instilled this new drive for success. Yes, the Xeroto was certainly directing her somewhere- but where? And did it have

anything to do with the breathlessness she was experiencing lately? She asked her doctor, who assured her a Xeroto can't cause asthma. He said that Xerotos only channeled energy to

The Language Gangsters, who kibbutzed at the starbucks. Disguised as cats, they grew fur and tails. Nobody recognised them. Yellow jackets fleeing a can of Raid hovered overhead.

All seemed like a dream. It was worse. MUCH WORSE. It was a warning, telling whoever saw this to be prepared for anything. Anything.