No one at the human female’s job likes to spend a lot of time in this little room. It’s where the hazardous chemicals are stored and where the hazardous waste disposal containers sit until they are picked up. Everything is handled safely, but even so, smells abound. I’ve only been in here for five minutes and I swear I can feel myself mutating already.
It’s all very unsettling, claustrophobic, and dismal, but I need to inventory what’s here to see if there’s anything I can use in taking over the planet.
Tsk, tsk. Just look at this sink. "Stainless" steel, my right eye. It’s all the weird stains and dyes they’ve dribbled and slopped in there, I suppose. "Coomassie" this and "methylene" that and "Congo" the other thing.
It’s nearly as bad as it could possibly be. But there’s always room for disimprovement. How about more plumbing-fu?
I’m not bored with water high-jinks yet. This is a sweet little puddle. It has outrun the paper towels. (Which is not surprising. Midgardians are a moderately clever bunch, but they’ve yet to come up with a lab towel that will actually absorb moisture rather than pushing it around.) Can you guess where the water is coming from?
Ehehehehehe. I’m so clever I scare myself. I’ve rigged it so that when someone runs water in that blotchy sink, the water comes out from under the other side of the cabinet!
Now it’s not just the Hazardous Chemical Room, it’s also the Slip-and-Fall-Hazard Room! Ehehehehehe! I’m hoping the water is seeping down and dripping as a ceiling leak on the second floor, below. Why should the folks on third have all the fun?
Oh, and the crews from maintenance haven’t replaced Ol’ Gusher the Ever-running Sink in the lab down the hall yet.