Mouth open, yet damn-fragging miraculously silent, J.B. turns from the lens 
of Skeeter’s helmet-mounted Sony to face the doorway. That’s when something
steps into the doorway. Something big. Very big. Its eyes glint blood-red with a 
phantom ray of light. Its face is a ferocious alien mask of bloody red and 
stripes of black. It bares enormous gleaming fangs. Its mouth, stretching open 
wide, seems easily big enough to swallow the very trid-o-genic head of J.B. in 
one gulp.