The next three days of Handy’s life were made an absolute hell, and what went through his mind was best left undescribed. Had you ever had a bad acid trip? No? Well neither had Handy. And that was the closest approximation to what he experienced as the creatures kept changing and upping the dosage and volatility of the mixture he was suspended in. During his lucid moments, he realised the nails of his hands had been filed down and that he had been stripped of most of his accoutrements with the exception of his ruined jeans, suffering indignity on top of injury. He resented the creatures so much.