I looked up at the two bobble-heads. What once looked like friendly, sports-figure smiles now looked like evil grins.

I thought of translations of the word "cheese." "Fromage" and "queso" crossed my mind, but both included the letter E. I typed "chs" and hit return.

The bobble-heads shook their over-sized heads. Their heads turned, compressing their industrial sized neck springs, then released and sproinged a definite "No."

The screen responded with, "Password incorrect. Password:"

The green block of the cursor blinked at me with infinite patience.

The bobble-heads changed the next time I looked. Their grins formed into big, evil, toothy smiles.

"Okay. Okay. Don't panic. Um. Try 3s instead of Es," I thought.

I typed, "ch33s3" and hit return.

Again, the bobble heads shook their heads. The brim of the cap on the baseball bobble-head changed into two horns. The guard on the football bobble-head's helmet changed into two tusks.

I thought of the heads growling like whatever it was the IT guy battled. The ringing of the giant bobble head springs oscillated with my shaky hands.

The screen displayed, "Password still incorrect, but closer. Password:"

I ran through the variations of "cheese" through hacker slang. I tried, "ch3353", "ch33$3", and "ch33z3", none of which worked. With each wrong password, the bobble-heads grew more and more monstrous, from sports figures into gargoyles. I didn't know if it was the creaking of their neck springs or something from within, but they sounded like they laughed at me with ghoulish chuckling, knowing today was their day to dine.

I typed in "(h33$3" and hit return.

The screed said, "Error: Parenthesis missing."

The lights went out over the bobble-heads. I heard the metallic creaking of two giant springs. I hunched over the computer and covered my head. I waited for their growls to be drowned out by my screams at the thought I was about to be eaten.

Nothing happened.

I peeked out from behind my elbows the lights were still off over the twin, springy monsters. Despite the danger, I slowly raised my head.

The screen said, "Joking. Password correct--access granted. Please wait..."

My body shook. Sweat trickled down my face. My thoughts were haunted with images of the heads springing out of the darkness to eat me.

The screen said, "Step one complete for the Charles Morris Curse. Step two, collect the following items and return them to Sigmund Silverman:"

I opened my notebook to the page after Katie's German installation errors notes, and wrote down the items on the list.

The list read:

• One fresh donut from the food table.
• Five ball-point pens of five different colors.
• Section XXVI of the End-User License Agreement (EULA) translated into Pig Latin.
• One dozen petals from a bouquet of flowers delivered to the office.
• One coffee cup half full of water from the women's restroom.

Most of the items did not look too out of the ordinary for an office building. I folded the spiral notepad over so the list was the cover page, and slid the pencil into the wire binding. I stood up and looked around the darkened room. The outline of the door behind me disappeared into the darkness. Thoughts of the bobble heads lingered. No way was I going to step one inch into the shadows of this room. Not without good reason.

The computer beeped at me.

The screen said, "You forgot to log out," and blinked a green, cursor at me.

I typed "logout" and hit return.

The floor around the computer illuminated in a pale, white light through tiled flooring. A path ran from the computer table, across the floor, to another door on the wall opposite from where I entered.

The illuminated floor was bright enough to give some light to the room, yet not enough to reveal the hiding spot of the bobble heads. It still felt like they lurked in the shadows and watched me with their wide, painted-on eyes.

I shoved the thought to the back of my mind, behind a closed door, and piled some mental furniture around it. I focused on the items on the list and how to get them.

I walked through the door and into the hallway. The hallway looked like the one Mr. Silverman led me down before the Riddle of the Bobbleheads, except the wording on the door plaques were mirror imaged. Also, the light overhead was fixed and no longer flickered, if it was the same light. I walked down the hallway to Alice's desk and the entrance to Mr. Silverman's office. Or, was it another Alice and another Mr. Silverman? She smiled and waved to me.

Alice said, "Did Mr. Silverman help you?"

"I think so. At least I think he pointed me in the right direction. Is he in?"

"No. Mr. Silverman has an important business appointment. He should be back later this afternoon."

"Thanks. See you later, Alice."

"Bye now."

All seemed normal, except that Alice's name plate and the document she typed were in the same mirrored lettering. The words appeared across her screen from right to left.