"I wanna drink," wailed the damned kid, from the bedroom.
"All right, keep your pants on," growled Sam surlily. He went out to the kitchen, leaving the radio on. It had been jabbering for some time, something about Olduk.
"Please," said the radio voice of Olduk, "do not touch water. Tell your friends, my friends, not to touch water...."
Sam got a glass out of the cupboard, held it under the faucet, turned the faucet on.
The water came out, well enough, but it wasn't water.
"What the hell," Sam said incredulously.
A big drop was suspended from the faucet, was growing bigger as the faucet fed it.
Sam watched while it became six inches, a foot in diameter.
The glass fell from his paralyzed fingers. "What the hell!" he yelled hoarsely.
"I wanna glass of water," the damned kid wailed.