"Professor! wake up!" says my assistant, Dr. Potato, in a very serious tone.
This can't be good. Whenever he sounds like this, it usually means we we're not getting a grant, or something like that.
"I have some very shocking news." he says, as I yawn.
He goes on to explain that the SSAM has not only changed the deadline to the end of this month, but they want a full TON of my cure too. I can't work that fast! Just ridiculous.
In order to get my mind of it, Dr. Potato takes me to the local village to search for some good trades. He buys himself a few tools, but I'm more focused on the flickering outline of a sort of rectangular prism.
"What are you looking at?" he demands.
"Nothing, Potato," I say. "Now let's go see if the butcher is selling porkchops today.."
It comes back. I see a phone booth materialize out of thin air. Two men step out of it. One, a younger man holds a screwdriver. The other man looks to be in his 70s. They look around a bit. The old one looks at me. (Creepy...)
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I ask.
To my supprise, Dr. Potato says "Yes,"
I'm not hallucinating. Dr. Potato saw it too.
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Subject 342 (Outdated)
RandomAn ambitious young scientist records his horrific experiences from the early days of his lab, where a genetics experiment in cellular regeneration went horribly wrong.
