Randall had no trouble finding the main medical hallway. He could see the gawdy pink paint from a mile away. Not to mention what looked like the mother of all Christmas wreaths hanging on the wall. He wondered why Alice hadn't mentioned it; it was kind of hard to miss. The receptionist, a fly-woman, was chewing bubble gum and chatting on her computer. There were no other patients.

He sat down in the waiting area. The wooden circular table in front of him was piled with literature. There was, of course, 3 or 4 copies of the company newsletter, "The Pester Bee", and some magazines he did not recognise. He stared at the titles. Reader's Digest, Popular Mechanics, Sports Illustrated, Time. All human magazines, he guessed. There was also a children's magazine. The front cover was ripped off, so he couldn't read the name. The back, however, was intact. It featured an ad for a new movie coming to theatres. The title of the movie was "People Unlimited." Randall did a double take, then quickly dropped the magazine as though it were toxic. He saw another magazine underneath it. It was open, and the picture showed a human adult. Female. And wearing a bikini-

He heard a loud yell, coming from behind him and turned his head. The magazine slipped to the floor. He watched as a large hornet-like creature flew down the hall, screaming, "YAGH! NEEDLES!!" 3 doctors and/or nurses- Randall couldn't tell- ran after him in hot pursuit, brandishing hypodermic syringes.

He couldn't help but notice the irony of the situation, and even snickered, his first time since the exiling, a sound as foreign to his ears as if he had just meowed.

"Mr. Booger? Wendell Booger?" There it was, that awful name the labeler had stuck on him.

"Uh, that's me, I'm Wen- I mean Randall. Randall Boggs."

"Oh, then somebody labeled you wrong, huh? Happens all the time." The doctor looked like an Alice clone. A male Alice clone. A male green Alice clone. "I'm Dr. Beele. Well, we'll just straighten that name thing out. I'll relabel your thing for you. That should take care of it." He turned to lead Randall into the exam room, then looked back at him. "Oh, if you don't mind my asking, how'd you get those bruises?"

"Long story."

"Mmmhmmm. Before I take a look at you, why don't you slip into this?" He held out a pale blue dress-like thing. "We all wear clothes here. We've found it's chillier than back where you're used to. Those born here don't notice as much. Besides, look at you. You're positively shivering."

Randall looked down at his first pair of hands. They did seem to be jittery. He looked further. So were his second. Grabbing the gown, he pulled it on over his head.

"Boy, I wish I had a mirror. Do I look okay?" It hung on him.

"I'm no fashion expert, but it'll have to do for now. You'll get some regular clothes later. Oh, and by the way, I forgot to mention this, but my name's Bob. You know, if we ever become friends."

Randall followed him through the door. The walls of the exam room were painted a light blue color, almost the same as the gown. He climbed up on the table, which had a paper sheet on it.

Bob sat down in an office chair. "You're probably wondering how we got your medical files from your old life, right?"

"That would be nice to know."

"Hacked 'em."

"Then you're my kind of guy."

Bob laughed. "Well, we have to. Nobody in Monstropolis or anywhere else back there knows of our existence. Well, there were rumors, but they were quickly dispelled. Now, getting back to business, I'd just like to review your record with you. It really doesn't matter this first time, because at the initial examination we treat you like you have no record. Test you to death, so to speak. But I just like to make sure everything here is correct. Let's see.......born in 1965, the usual earaches, broken leg at age 6 falling out of your bedroom window-"

"Wild pillow fight."

"-tonsillectomy, age 6, appendectomy, age 9, broken leg, age 13-"

"Ski trip."

"-7 raisins up the nose, age 18, first day of job training. Kept overnight in hospital due to nosebleeds and oxygen deprivation. Oh, and somebody filled out a 'Legitimate Leave' form for you."

"Raisin stuffing contest. Sully beat me. I'm still wondering how the heck he got 23 up there."

"Broken fingers from slamming a door on them, mild hypothermia when a kid locked you outside after pushing you out the window in 40 below zero weather, broken toes when a scream canister fell on your foot. My, you had a very interesting work experience."

"Those were all at the beginning of my career. And Sully bumped me. I wouldn't have dropped that canister any other way."

"I believe you," Bob's words said, but his face and voice didn't. "A year ago, a touch of pneumonia, and that's it. Anything else you remember?"

"No, that's everything." Randall shifted his weight around on the table. It made a crinkling sound. "By any chance, are you related to Alice from job counselling?"

"Yeah. I guess it's pretty obvious. Brother, actually."

"Twin?"

"No, 10 years younger. Everybody thinks we're twins, which is a compliment to her and an insult to me." Bob laughed. It had a rolling, low sort of sound, like a water wheel. He took out a pad of paper from underneath Randall's file folder. "So. How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"That happens a lot, because of the stress of being exiled and having to get used to your new surroundings, and in your case, it's also the cold. Reptilians usually have a hard time getting used to the temperature. It's normal. Any complaints? Like sore throats and that kinda jazz?"

"Not really."

Bob took out his stethoscope and put the ends into his ears. He placed the disk of it on Randall's gown front. Suddenly, Randall felt awkward. He had never been friends with anybody who shoved medicine down his throat before.

After a minute, Bob switched to the back and had Randall cough. He complied. When Bob was done with this, Randall yawned. His last thought was, I hope they have chocolate here.

"Wake up."

He was lying on the beach. A breeze scented with tropical flowers floated by. A little girl ran up to him and slapped him on the right cheek. Boo. Suddenly, there were hundreds of Boos, all slapping him on his cheeks. They were everywhere. His face began to sting-

"Randall!"

He looked around. He was still in the office. Bob was standing by the table.

"I thought you'd fainted. You okay?" His face showed a look of concern. "I waited, actually, until I had finished my examination to wake you." The look didn't seem so genuine anymore. "Everyhting seems normal, though. However, I am sending in a nurse to draw some blood for you." Randall's face went purpleish white. "It shouldn't hurt that much."

"No, it's the-"

"Oh, blood. Well, just don't look." He walked out of the room.

Randall was alone with his own thoughts for a minute. He wanted to know a lot of things. What this place was all about. What the heck he was supposed to do. And what was the point of living here?

"Hey, kid. Remember me?" Cally's head peeked through the door.

"Where's the nurse?"

"Didn't Bob tell you?" Cally, now that he saw her whole body, was clad in a pale pink T shirt and matching pants. "Guess he didn't know I found you." In her hand was a needle and some cotton balls. She sat in a chair beside the one that Bob had been in. "You can come down now." She pulled a small tray out of the wall between the two chairs and put the equipment on it.

Randall slithered off the table and sat in Bob's chair.