Fleck thought that it would be nice to give the Cotton Candy Girl a present. Rip her open, slaughter her and bring her back to do it again! She wanted Chase to be her friend, not Abby's and Fleck wanted to taste her hair, match colors with their names.

Black and blue and red all over. Bad girl. Dolly mop.

She crept through the night as silently as a shade and followed what vague recollection of Chase's scent that she had to the townhouse where she lived. In one copped stained hand was a brown envelope, flat save for a spherical bulge at the bottom.

It's a shiny that Abby's eye socket gave to me. A marble that can see.

She had admired from afar the beads and trinkets laced throughout technicolor dreads, and she reasoned to the best of her ability that the glass eye would make a wonderful gift to a friend yet to be made.

Cotton Candy Girl will love it.

She found the door that belonged to Chase easily enough and clamped the envelope between her teeth while she removed hammer and nail from the duck shaped pocket on the front of her grimy dress.

'I've got a hammer, I've got a nail and I'm gonna be hammerin' all over this laa-and.'

Without thought or care, Fleck began nailing the envelope to the door. They could have been sleeping or eating or screwing, and she was oblivious.

When no one throttled her, when the door didn't open, she stood back and admired her gift one last time.

Gotta leave, sugar. Bad. Bad. Badbadbad like those mice in your head.

With her gift as safe as houses on the door, Fleck spun around and tore off down the dusty streets of a nighttime Rhydin.