There was something different about him when I next saw him He'd lost his hardened edge almost. He was so lost in thought. I couldn't tell what he was planning. He also was keeping his new "Spcecemin" as a guest. I couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. And what ever it was, how much work would he have to do on it? I hated it when Frank came up with a new plan. Cause it was always Riff that wound up having to do all the work.

And it was always Riff that got the brunt of Franks anger and frustration. I could count the days on one hand that Riff didn't have any new cuts or bruises to treat. And now, Frank was working Riff all sorts of hours. You could see the physical drain that this was having on him too. He was forming bags under his eyes that Kate Spade would be jealous of. And neither of us had any clue what he was doing.

All Riff would say was that Frank had him doing more fetching and errand running than anything. And Frank would have Riff take notes as he sent his new specimen through obstacle course after obstacle course. And it always seemed, that by the end of the day, Riff might have been running the same course. I hadn't thought that Riff could get any thinner than he was, but in a week, he dropped almost 10 pounds. It wasn't exactly noticible at first, but as the days wore on, he was reduced to next to nothing. Even I didn't notice it until he'd been changing one day, and you could clearly see his ribs protruding.

Frank kept him working straight through meals, that was the cause of it. And whenever Riff got the chance to eat, he didn't have enough to be a sustaining meal. I always tried to wait to eat until he was done, and wait to sleep, but it was difficult, especially the way that Frank was working him. Well, after I saw just how thin and tired he'd gotten, my mind was made up. I snuck up to Franks laboratory after everyone was asleep. I stole the small vial of sleeping pills that he kept up there, before sneaking back downstairs.

The next night, as soon as Frank let Riff away from work, I met him in the kitchen with a glass of drugged wine and a small plate of food with the sleeping pills also crushed into it. He gulped down the wine, and picked scarcely at the food, before it was obvious that the drugs had kicked in. He looked at me glaringly. "What did you do?" he asked me, before passing out. I picked him up, completely shocked at how light he'd become. I brought him back to our room, and tucked him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. I fell asleep myself.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Frank's bellowing. I scurried out of the bed and into the lift. When I got up to the lab, Frank had a demonic grin on his face. His specimen was there too, looking at me intently. "My my my, Magenta, where is your brother?" Frank questioned, that familiar evil tint to his voice.

"Asleep mastah." I said, and you could almost hear the venom dripping off of my voice with that last word.

"Asleep?" he said. "ASLEEP?!"

"You have been overworking him"

"Who are you to tell me that I am overworking him?" He said. I saw the gloved hand a split second before it connected with my face.