They hadn’t come through the Rift, which was odd but not unprecedented; they’d just appeared. Dozens of spiky, ping-pong ball sized creatures, with one thought on their tiny minds. ‘Feast! Feast! Feast!’
With Team Torchwood in pursuit, they swarmed through central Cardiff in the pre-dawn hours, devouring every scrap of tinsel in the municipal Christmas decorations and growing to the size of tennis balls. Then with a popping sound, one after another they vanished, leaving devastation behind.
Ianto surveyed the remains of the decorations.
“How do we explain that to Cardiff Council?”
Jack shrugged. “Think they’d believe it was Gremlins?”