And with that I put her on hold, swapping windows so Daniel Waters filled the entire screen, with Jocastar up in the corner. I turned up the volume. Waters was in serious trouble. The twitching was even more pronounced in the larger image, and his familiar, perfectly enunciated baritone was coming apart at the seams. One moment he'd be the old Daniel Waters, ratings king, the next he sounded like a brain-fried chip abuser. I watched, frozen in sick fascination.