"Most things don't want to die, John." Tanya said, pointing to a ladder behind the press box for him to climb up. "But that cutey doesn't have much of a choice." She was checking all the caps of the bottles. There were six of them and they didn't smell as bad as the last concoction she made. "We just have to wait a little longer." She said as she loaded her auto sniper rifle with the chalky, white balls.