The prisoner stepped into it, the disc soaring away once more.
She was about to object when the disc beneath his feet levitated and launched them into the air.
When Snow stepped in on disc number three, he knew that too— the date of the jam, who was on vibes, snares and keyboard.
A waist-high bathtub and a round disc serving as an alien toilet, also waist-high, were on one wall.
He and Fred did not enjoy the same music so when both were home the five-disc machine usually contained two jazz selections for Dean, two country and western for Fred, and a pop group neither liked but both could tolerate.