You’ve been spending hours and hours in the "craft room," working on the Norns know what.
Come to think if it, I know what exactly what you’re making.
A bloody great mess.
Believe it or not, I didn’t have a thing to do with that pile there. This knotted snakes’ nest of little satin ribbons for dolly clothes, on the other hand…
I’ve started keeping track of how much time you’ve spent untangling them over and over. It’s adding up in a most satisfactory fashion. (But I think the green ones may need to come home with me. And Sigyn needs the red ones.)
It’s very important to have a nice, sharp needle in the sewing machine. A dull needle can snag or skip stitches and is quite frustrating. But didn’t you say you were pretty sure you have a whole packet of spares in here someplace?
I’ve found it! Let me fetch it for you.
Sadly empty. Well, rats.
No, I don’t think the fabric store is open at 10:00 at night. Oh, too bad!
Eh he he he he he.
The human female and her colleagues have given and graded the last practical exam and it is now time to enter all the grades carefully. Attention to detail is critical! The course grade books reside in a "secure" sector on the departmental server.
I have been double checking the human female’s efforts, just to make sure everything is accurate. I’ve had to fix quite a few things for her.
Tsk, tsk. Such math. Much fail. Wow.
I had to correct her roster, too.
She should be getting a nice brisk phone call from the Registrar right about…now.
p.s. Please pardon the poor quality of these images. Not only is it hard to photograph computer screens, but the Physical Plant folks, in their infinite, money-saving wisdom, have hooked all the lights on the floor into motion sensors. The human female is such a shiftless lump that her light fixtures think she's gone home and the room keeps going dark. (I might have helped the crew with her room a little. Maybe.)
The last few practicals are being given. One of the exam stations covers gel electrophoresis. That is a fancy word for electrocuting things in a precise, scientific way. (Unlike the electrocuting my oafish brother Thor does, which is rather uncontrolled and not at all scientific.)
Sigyn! Get out of there! Didn’t you read the sign?! If someone were to start the gel rig up, you would be toasted instantly! I shall make sure it is turned off and is unplugged.
There. That is much safer. Don’t scare me like that! (Hmm. I think I may be getting an idea, though, of how to handle the brutish green Hulk if he ever comes around…)
When properly conducted, gel electrophoresis can be a useful tool, especially in the processing of DNA evidence. I am always careful not to leave DNA evidence at the scene of my crimes. I don’t have fingerprints to worry about, but Jotun DNA is very distinctive.
The rule for remembering how to set up positive and negative poles of the electrophoresis gel rig is "Begin at Black; Run to Red"
Run to Red. I always do.
The human female has begun grading the laboratory exams.
I have fought in many battles. I have witnessed carnage unimaginable. I have stood in blood up to my ankles. But never have I seen such a sea of red.
Don’t look, Sigyn. It’s horrible.
Marking all of these exam papers is going to drive the human female right round the bend.
Especially after I apply Mendelian laws and segregate and assort the pages independently…
The students where the human female works are having their end-of-the-semester laboratory exam this week, to see if she and her cohorts managed to teach them anything.
The exam is set up as a series of stations. This one has to do with something called pH. I think that stands for potential Heinousness.
You can see that Sigyn has a much lower potential Heinousness than I do. I match the very upper end of the scale. No surprise there.
I have walked through the practical, looking at all the stations. It covers a lot of material, and it looks as if it would be very difficult to score well. Even harder, if I switch up the sticky arrows that indicate the items to which the questions refer…
The Residence Hall Association on campus was giving out free T-shirts today. Never one to pass up free goods (which can, after all, be bartered away if I do not care for them), I asked them if they had one in Norse God size.
This is what they gave me. It is a size S, the S standing, apparently, for “swallow.”
Oh, well. Blue is not my color anyway. But hmmm…. I do believe this is the sort of shade that runs most abominably in the wash… Time to run a white load!
Yes, I have been known to ponder the odd human-brain-in-a-jar, but that doesn’t mean I would ever even remotely begin to harbor the merest speckle of the ghost of the start of a notion to amass a whole purloined collection of them.
So much nope. You will have to lay this at someone else’s door. I suggest you start with the U.T. dining hall and see if the pickled cauliflower looks a little dicey recently.
p.s. I can sneak quite a bit past the dim human female, but I think she’d probably notice something like this if I brought it home.
p.p.s. Yes, cauliflower jokes are disrespectful of the dead. Remember who you are dealing with. Bad guy, remember?