I walked to my locker burning with humiliation. I was about to change into my gym clothes when Garrett whispered, "Take off your shorts only and then ...op up on the bench and dance." I looked at him and my fear showed. He continued, "Dance like a stripper or I'll beat the shit out of you right now." Taking my shirt and tying a little knot in it at the front so that it fit snugly above my navel he backed away and I slid my shorts down. I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. As I stood up. " True, no news is good news. Even when deciphered the notes would not be readily understood by a common apothecary, but several apothecaries in Europe ... Bayer in Munich, Pfizer in Zurich, Poulenc in Paris ... are as skilled as I, and well enough able to produce the substance if given my notes." Yet neither of those gentlemen, to your knowledge, or of anyone else in the fraternity of apothecaries, is manufacturing Satan's Breath. Perhaps Helen de Troyes' employers are unable to have your code. More

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