I closed them again.'Where am I?' is such a cliche, but sometimes it fit the situation.Let's review. I was in bed, but it wasn't my bed. It didn't fee... right. Besides, the ceiling was green. Puke green. Who would paint their ceiling puke green? It was hard to concentrate.My shoulder itched.I decided that was more important than where I was. I lifted my hand. It felt funny and I couldn't wiggle my fingers. I reached up to scratch my shoulder... "Oh, God!" I moaned as pain shot through me."Tony. I really had to use all my self-control to reign in my impulse to tell her what I thought about this, but I would not get into more trouble. No not this time. The blood could be washed off and I had enough money to afford another night at the Crystal suite or somewhere else to take a bath and get my things cleaned. The Cops and robots already reacted. But then an open flier appeared and swiftly swooped down. In it several of the bed sheet wearing protesters and they were dropping football sized. More

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