We all stared at Gladstone for 12 seconds. Finally, I sighed as heavily as I could, and said, "Yes. I have read that mold spores can do that." I stared each one of them in the eye, daring them to make a thing of this. "Let's all forget what just happened, but also be on the watch for mold spores." Another lengthy pause while everyone considered that. Finally DOB walked over to Brockway and punched him on the shoulder. "Sorry buddy. It was you or us. Glad you pulled through though." He thought for a moment before adding, "Tiger." "I don't think it was actually me or you," Brockway said, wincing as he examined his bleeding ass. "You'll never understand what it's like being in that situation," Swaim said cheerfully. He wiped his sword blade against his pants. "How the human body reacts when it's put in danger like that. I'm glad to say that I reacted flawlessly." Brockway glared at him, his head conjuring up ways to remove Swaim from his genitals. I paused for a second to make sure they weren't going to start up again, then turned to look towards the back of the fridge. Behind us, the mold's retreat had uncovered a variety of detritus. Bottle caps, twist ties, a fork. I looked it over curiously before my eyes settled upon something horrific. Against the side wall, slumped against a Tupperware container full of evil, sat a skeleton, its bones bleached white. "Is that?" I whispered under my breath, cautiously approaching it. "Ross?" Swaim said, finishing my thought. We all gathered around the skeleton. The mold had picked it clean. "How can you guys be sure?" asked Brockway, bleeding. "His medallion," I said, pointing at his neck, where a bronze medallion lay, the light catching it. The mold hadn't touched it at all. "It's the Wolinksy family crest. He never took that off."