“If somebody in Pico Mundo is going to start shooting people, it’ll be Fungus Man.” “Who’s he?” “Sat at the counter a while ago. Ordered enough food for three people. Ate like a ravenous swine.” “That’s my kind of customer. But I didn’t see him.” “You were in the kitchen. He was pale, soft, with all rounded edges, like something that would grow in Hannibal Lecter’s cellar.” “He put off bad vibes?” “By the time he left, Fungus Man had an entourage of bodachs.” Terri stiffened and looked warily around the restaurant. “Any of them here now?” “Nope. The worst thing on the premises at the moment is
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