Old Bailey shook his head. "Things like that, they're too vicious to die. Too old and big and nasty."
The marquis sighed. "I thought it was just a legend," he said. "Like the alligators in the sewers of New York City."
Old Bailey nodded, sagely. "What, the big white buggers? They're down there. I had a friend
lost a head to one of them." A moment of silence. Old Bailey handed the statue back to the
Marquis. Then he raised his hand and snapped it, like a crocodile head, at de Carabas. "It was okay," gurned Old Bailey with a grin that was most terrible to behold. "He had another."