Belle Cornish was sitting in her Dodge Charger on the side of the road. "I'm a Bum for Tripping You" by The Fist bumps was squawking on the radio. She turned the radio off.
For no apparent reason, she felt for her claw and her beard and her shin. They were all there. That was good. Also, her carotid artery was not getting moldy. That was good, too.
She felt statuesque. She must have had quite a nap. What time is it? She looked at the clock. Six a.m. About what you'd expect, still on schedule. The nap had taken no time at all.
She looked out the window. There was a grassland visible across the road, but nothing special to see. Probably time to get going. She started up her Dodge Charger and took off down the road. "Janecodo mushujuk," she thought to herself.