Ahead of her, a ribcaged car exploded through the display window of the Shop of a Thousand Spiders in a garish spray of interface medicine, dreamspore, thaumaturgical artefacts and activans. Baulking to a halt and standing in a slow leak of benthic steam, the car stood striped with crash tar, a rear bumper sticker reading I BRAKE FOR HADES. The bodywork had acquired a dark coating of burnt nerve tissue and now cracked open, muffled hilarity turning fully audible as a door bust to earth with Barney upon it, weeping with laughter. Everyone piled out, gobs distorted by speed and dementia.
'Wow that was so cool', said Fang.