possibly the single strangest sentient life form on the planet. Having been cross-bred from Zro and Mollkins. Violent semi-transparent horrors that fed on ageing eighties rockers, Wererabbits, and lungerfish. Eddie Van Synder stepped outside for a cigerette. It was to be his last. His wife was screaming to him about being responsible as he slid the glass door shut behind her. He was in the peace of his sprawling back yard again. He walked along the edge of his guitar shaped swimming pool. He had the water replaced with fresh mineral water twice a week. Eddie pulled the flask from his pocket and he sipped the strong spirits inside. Was that a sound he heard? Like something big stalking him, lightly crushing the twigs of the custom trees that filled his backyard?