* * *

  Quackrak sat on the picnic table looking at the five soaking wet demons that had followed him out of Hell. They were huddled together on the shore, shivering in the cool night air, eyes darting nervously in all directions. They looked scared, undecided as to what to do next.

  Quackrak got up and walked over to them. “You gotta go back,” he said. All five just stared at him. He said, again, louder, “You have to go back to—” he stopped in mid-sentence as it suddenly hit him; he didn’t know how to go back. “Oh, that’s just great!” he said to himself.

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