Flug is cleaning his entire room. Throwing out everything, blankets, tolietries, soaps, his pillows, a new shower mat, the showerhead, and now he’s ripping up the carpet.
All of his furniture is in the hall.
“Uh… you doing okay, buddy? Did you spill something?”
“My room is a virus trap. Demencia sabotaged me with bodily fluids and a number of other disgusting things.”
“Oh – gross! What, uh… You know what, I don’t even want to know. Need some help? I have safety gear.”
The Perfect Scientist 