Iggy has been prescribed so many different medications for his psychiatric ailments that our father, not wanting to bother to keep track of a dozen or so different types of pills, delegated the responsibility of doling out the medication to me.

Iggy takes a stimulant medication to treat his ADHD in the mornings, and a different stimulant to treat it in the afternoons, and at night and at various times throughout the day he takes three different antipsychotics to treat his bizarre behavior, sedate him and help him to sleep. Side effects include drooling, dilated pupils and worse, so he takes medications to treat the side effects of those drugs, and medications to treat the side effects of the drugs that he takes to treat his side effects.

It is my personal opinion that Iggy is drastically overmedicated, but the psychiatrists, of course, don't listen; besides, they earn more coins for each medication the prescribe, and who's a better target than the demented son of a king too uneducated to know what the drugs are doing to his son, too busy (or lazy) to bother with his son when he's not sedated from pill cocktails, and too rich not to pay for it all.

I had once taken many of these medications myself, but when I got mature enough to control my behavior in public, the psychiatrist decided to wean me off of the medication.

"Here, these will help you to fall asleep," I tell him.

I hand him one of the fast-acting antipsychotics to put him to sleep fast and one of the slow-acting antipsychotics to keep him asleep. I hand them out one at a time, instructing Iggy to swallow whole instead of chewing. I hand him some blue-dyed water to help him with the swallowing.

"Thank you, Ludwig," he says to me, staring up at me through the thick swirly lenses of E. Gadd's glasses.

After a fraction of a second of stillness, I imagine that I see a swirling motion to the swirls. I blink and the swirling disappears.

I hastily escort him out the lab door.

The – the double-shot of Austrian roast must have been a shock to my system, that's all. I hadn't had it on a regular basis since I was a Frankenstein University student, after all. Or maybe I am simply… tired… the caffeine did not seem to be as effective lately as it normally was. I had even created drugs that I used regularly on myself to prevent myself from becoming caffeine tolerant.

I am nervous and tired at the same time. Hyper-alert and drowsy. I yawn while my heart buzzes. My brain buzzes too, but perhaps the clarity is only an illusion?

I drop the container of slow-acting antipsychotic tablets. I drop to all fours to find them all and put them back in the jar.

When I grab the first pill off the floor, I notice that it looks different from the quetiapine tablets that were supposed to be in that container. Smaller, off-white instead of white, longer and thinner in its oval shape…

I recognize it. One of Larry's male performance enhancement tablets. Ugh.

All of the other tablets on the floor turn out to be the same.

I just gave Iggy a boner medication!

That cheat Larry must have taken the pills for his own drug amusement pleasure and replaced them with his own, probably expired pills (it was not often that a girl allowed him to see any action, after all). Though I don't know why he would choose the quetiapine; the blue amphetamine tablets used to treat Iggy's ADHD seemed a far likelier target…

I check the other containers; they all appear to contain their respective medications.

I guess Iggy will just wake up in an hour or so, possibly wetting the bed as well. But then, he very frequently wets the bed anyway. Wish the psychiatrists would prescribe him something to treat that…

Back to my little project. I suddenly remember where I kept my old Transmutational Brainwave Analyzer.

I put the helmet over the beaker that Gadd's brain is in, laughing insanely as the paper prints out. My claws trembling, I try to focus my bugged-out eyes on what has been printed on it.

I read the first sentence:

Have you ever thought to build your own Koopaccino maker to put in here, sonny?

Strange first thought. Still, an infuriatingly simple idea that I should have thought of before! Of course, I have always been so busy working on other projects, but a Koopaccino maker would be a snap compared to what I normally build!

I want to thank Gadd, but I realize that I had never invented a brain communication device. I make a note of myself to build one after I am done with the Koopaccino machine.

I had seen the personnel at Shellz open up their Koopaccino machine to refill it before, so I knew exactly how it worked. I can make it out of IV bags, some old pipes and faucets (after having shrunken them with my shrink ray, of course), the motor to a hair dryer to heat up the water, and some welded-together sheets of metal.

As a finishing touch, I paint the varnish with an epic view of alpine Austria. Although I am most renowned for my music, it being my favorite of the fine arts, I am quite accomplished at the visual arts as well.

Now, the only things that were missing were the drink ingredients. I would have to go out to the kitchen to obtain coffee beans, milk, and flavor syrup.

I remember my last venture to the kitchen. It was merely a dream, but it still had me chilled at the thought of visiting that place.

I shake it off. I want easy access to Koopaccino drinks, damn it!

I exit my laboratory, this time triple-checking the triple-lock on the door.