The Room of Doom, Part I: Where clutter goes to die

No photos of me today*, but Great Frigga’s corset, would you look at this?


The human female and her cohorts must be doing something correctly, because enrollment in their courses has grown to the point where another lab room is required. Since staging a coup and booting a different department’s courses out of the building is frowned upon by the Powers That Be, space has to be found elsewhere. The collective eye has fallen upon a basement room in an adjacent building.

Behold the Room of Doom:


I mean, look at all of this! All things obsolete, broken, moldy, toxic, or just plain unidentifiable.


This room has been the depository for everyone’s cast-offs for quite some time. No one knows what half it is.


The human female and her staff have now been tasked with the job of clearing this all out and making a sparkling new teaching lab.


Personally, I don’t think it can be done. But just think of the good time I shall have poking about, discovering treasures, and adjusting all the tall, wobbly piles so that they fall on her head!


Don’t wander off. The fun begins tomorrow.

>|: [

*Because, godliness notwithstanding, I think a haz-mat suit is in order before I enter. . .


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