Filler! Filler! Who ordered the filler? No one? Eh, you're getting one anyway.
Professor Pedantic was worried. Very worried.
The formula had failed. It had looked perfectly probable on paper, but practically…
The professor groaned and massaged his temples as yet another guinea pig was sedated, another lab assistant threatened to sue, and another throbbing vein appeared on his forehead.
He had never before regretted his royal connections, his childhood friendship with Captain Obvious had been the source of many generous grants, willing sponsors and an enthusiatic drinking buddy. But now, said friendship was threatening to destroy his reputation, give all the other scientists more than enough reason to kick him out every country club, board of trustees and whorehouse this side of Mania, and cause him an early death to boot.
The professor bit back a sob of despair and, pausing to make sure that all the stationary on his desk was perfectly aligned, and sharpening a stubborn pencil until it was the same size as its comrades.
What am I to do? He cried internally as he watched a guinea pig turn purple and begin reciting limericks in Swahili.
And then, as if answering him, a clumsy intern tripped and spilled the tray-full of chemicals onto another, more pompous intern.
"That's it!" the professor bellowed as the intern's ears swelled up to Dumbo-proportions, "I'm getting nowhere with these critters! I need to begin experimenting on humans!"
"Hey, Riff! I got a job!"
Riff looked up from his edition of Jane Eyre (subtly hidden behind the dust jacket of some medical journal), "Really? You? Work?"
Frank rolled his eyes, "It could happen, and it will!" he threw his arms out and twirled, "You are looking at Transsexual's youngest on-hand-experimentational-assissational-sensational-result-provider!"
"You what?" Riff frowned at his squealing boyfriend.
"I don't know either!" he cried ecstatically, "I had to go the palace today – my dad forgot his lunch, you see – and then, who should come up to me, but Professor Pedantic himself!" he swooned and plopped onto Riff's lap, "He said that I've got the look and then he gave me the job!"
"Hmm…," Riff ignored Frank's cuddling and nuzzling, "Sounds kind of dodgy to me…"
Frank sighed, "Silly, suspicious Riff. What do you honestly think they'll do to me?" he rolled his eyes again, "You want to come with? You can protect me from any vindictive nerds hanging around, waiting to calculate my improbability."
Riff shoved him off his lap, "I'll come, but only because I want to be able to see the famous Furter laboratory," Riff sighed dreamily.
Frank grinned from his position on the floor, "Riff! You're going to be working there someday! One day you'll be sick of seeing it!"
Riff Raff shook his head, "First of all, you need to graduate from at least three universities simultaneously before they even consider hiring you – my parents wouldn't even be able to afford to send me to one. Secondly, you need to have a vertigo-inducingly high social standing to get anywhere once you're in. I'd have to be dating a prince before they gave me a promotion!" he griped, sulking.
Frank cooed sympathetically and gave him a hug, "Don't worry Riff. I'll get you a spot in there – I don't care who I have to sleep with!" he winked, "I promise I'll make your dreams come true," he vowed, giving Riff a light peck on the cheek.
What can I say? Fillers aren't my friends.