_{[Hanging onto Henry's elbow is not unlike trying to take a very nervous great dane for a walk. He can't help but pull. He's trying to be slow but. Serial killers.]}

Walter Sullavin is here. I met him on my way home from work last night--this morning, I guess. He has a cubone. He's solid. I nearly killed him, would have if that construction worker hadn't called the police. I almost did it, Heather. I almost did my job. Nobody here understands.

It's either him or me. I'm the last sacrament.