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?

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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:

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

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

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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.

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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!

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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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