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.”
Seriously, I’m tired of the magical roofies. Thank you.
Um, you’re welcome then.
So has Camp Cambell been alright?
I’m not a kid – I don’t actually go here. Angie likes it well enough… but that just might be the plane she’s existing in at the moment. Max is clearly in a different one.
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?”
The Perfect Scientist 