Skeeter scrambles back onto his feet and charges down the stairs right on the 
damn fraggin’ dithead’s heels. The monster roars again. J.B. screams. Skeeter
concentrates on running like he’s never run before, down six flights of stairs,
through the ground-floor warehouse, off the loading dock in the rear and up the 
alley to the street. Even then, his dimble-headed muck-brain news snoop is still 
gasping. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"