With that, the top of Cedric’s head flopped forward and stared at Mund with its mouth agape. It was pulled up to its feet, knocking its knees on the table. The Marshall-thing glided backward across the floor and slid its hand into Cedric’s open throat and began to operate him like a sock puppet. “Well, golly gee willickers, Mr. Mund,” the Marshall-thing spoke through Cedric’s corpse. “If I can do that to my own nephew, imagine what I’m going to do to you. Imagine what we’re going to do to everyone in this shithole town.”
