"Sounds like fun. Maybe I'll stick around and you guys can go on ahead."

Biff looked fairly nonplussed by the whole affair, though his knife of black glass was safely in his hand and his little vial of poison was safely around his neck.

Other people might have complained about the lack of real clothing, but even if he'd found his jeans and St. Louis sweatshirt, Biff would have left them where they were. The skinsuit may have been creepy, but the softly sensual feeling of softly pulsing skin-stuff conforming to his every angle was . . .

Well, let's not go there for now.