Slack presents hands-free conversations.

Hello, car commuter, dog walker, stroller pusher.

Your hands are busy.

It's why we created huddles in Slack, because sometimes talking is easier than typing.

Huddle without the hassle.

In Slack. It was a hot summer night in late June of 1988.

The humid tropical climate of Central South Carolina made the air feel heavy and oppressive.

17 year old Chris Davis was on his way home from a late shift at the diner where he had been working for a few months.

He was about halfway home on the outskirts of Bishopville in Lee County, when he realized he had a flat tire.

He had changed tires before, he was still wide awake, he had no concerns as he stepped out of his

vehicle, opened his trunk, and got to work.

Fifteen minutes later, he was basically done.

He lowered the car off the jack, checked the lugs one last time, and was dropping the old tire into his trunk when

he heard something, rustling in the bushes that separated the road from the edge of a large marshland called the scape ore swamp.

More on this particular swamp in a minute.

The young Mr Davis, although familiar with the area, was nonetheless startled by the noises.

There was always the threat of alligators.

He looked into the darkness and then out into the murky vastness of the swamp and saw nothing.

Just to be sure, he grabbed a flashlight from his glove box and gave a quick look in the direction of the rustling, straining his eyes,

until he was suddenly charged by a massive creature exploding from the depths of the swamp.

Chris screamed, jumped behind the wheel of his car,

and in a scene out of every horror movie you've ever been to,

...