The young boy's bedroom was completely ordinary in every way. It was a simple, square room with white walls and a couple of cubbies and bins for toys. It was space-themed, if it had any kind of theme at all, with posters of cartoonish sci-fi characters that Randall knew nothing about. If there was anything unique to the room, it was that there were glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the ceiling and to part of the wall nearest the bed. It was somewhat messy, as most children's rooms usually were, but getting around the tiny minefield of toxic objects wasn't a problem. The lizard speedily maneuvered around them without missing a beat.

As he snuck over to the bedside, he paused. The child was tucked in, but had the covers drawn all the way over his head. A dim light shined through the fabric, and Randall could just make out the fuzzy shape of the kid with his head propped up by pillows and pressed within a book. A panicked realization entered Randall's head, It's still awake...

Monsters Inc.'s agents tried not to assign him any night owls or heavy sleepers—any kid either too alert or too hard to rile out of their dreams, at least for someone of his level. There were always situations you just couldn't prepare for though: As a scarer, he couldn't tuck his tail in and quit just because of them. He had screams to collect.

Randall crawled over the headboard, thwacking it with the end of his tail. There was a sharp gasp, a pause, and then a head of curly hair appeared from beneath the covers. The dark-skinned boy's face was puffy and slick with tears beneath a frame of round glasses. He shone the flashlight over the edge of the bed, then carefully around the room.

The moving spotlight gave the lizard a better view of the things he had navigated around. In one corner of the room, there was a trash can with a ripped-up birthday banner hanging out of it. A crumpled party hat laid on the floor not far away. Near the center of the room, there was a colorful, child-sized table and chairs: Spread across the surface was a random assortment of crayons and drawings. One of the pictures depicted what seemed to be the boy himself sitting alone by a large cake with a sad face.

Since entering the working world, Randall hadn't given much thought into human child studies outside of what he needed to know for various scaring techniques—anything else was for scouts to sort out. He didn't need to know any in-depth research to piece together what might've happened. Not too popular, huh?

Randall moved to the opposite side of the bed. While he was still invisible to anyone's eyes, the moonlight was not-so-easily fooled. As he stood in front of the nearby window, his shadow stretched over the boy. The kid jerked around, his flashlight only deceiving him as it threw yet another tall silhouette against the wall. Randall shifted out of its range, if only just enough to keep from behind blinded, and then revealed himself with a guttural growl.

As the boy let out a terrified scream, Randall raced out of the bedroom in an instant and shut the door behind him, prepared to dive through yet another door and repeat the process without a second thought.

Randall woke up from the strange dream—no, memory—with a slight headache. It was impossible to keep any sense of time in the door warehouse, and he felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Tani, meanwhile, was still sound asleep beside him. Such nights didn't come easily for either of them lately, and so he meant to leave her be.

However, as he tried to make himself comfortable so that he could rest for a bit longer, he felt something tug at his leg. Tani's tail was wrapped around it. He didn't unravel it entirely, but draped the slack over the side of the mattress so that he wouldn't accidentally entangle himself. With that accomplished, the lizard once more stretched out onto his side.

Why did he even have that dream? Who was that child?

Oh, right… It was a kid from his rookie year. In one year, scarers could go through thousands of doors. Sullivan had joined the scare floor the same time he did, so all Randall had really thought of back then was the unfairness of it all; how the walking throw rug had managed to weasel his way through the company and impress Waternoose enough to become a scarer despite how he'd never gotten through his freshman year at MU. Their rivalry began on Day One. Given all of that, it was hard to believe he could remember a single kid's face from that long ago.

Maybe he was only remembering it now because what happened with Tani's scare bothered him so much. Maybe he should've found a way to stop her, or maybe he should've been sterner…

It didn't happen to him, but he had heard of it happen to other scarers—getting cold feet mid-scare out of a misplaced sympathy. Maybe something about their newly assigned kid reminded them of their own child. Maybe they thought the kid was going through enough without waking with a fright. It could even be from something as simple as feeling flattered that the child had drawn their nightmarish image in crayon.

It made Randall think that there was one other reason why the authorities and the heads of scaring companies kept the fact that humans weren't toxic a secret—besides what Worthington had explained to them. It wouldn't do for a scarer to get attached. If monsters started seeing the kids as anything other than a hazard or an energy source, then getting their screams would be harder than it already was. There would be an unnecessary amount of emotion involved in their job.

Randall reassured himself that they had both done the best they could, given the circumstances. He had been right to keep what happened under wraps—it wasn't even worth mentioning when a full scream canister defended them.

He tried to get some more sleep.

"It certainly is… something."

The redesigned Scream Extractor was as good as finished. It greatly replicated the original, except it was smaller and couldn't have the same number of scream canisters attached to it. Converting it to a mobile unit had been a success. The control panel and equally large plug were separate issues, but they could just be considered a hassle. All in all, it was a rush job that Randall was content with.

What satisfied him the most though were his changes to the controls—not that he had done much, but it was just enough to guarantee that neither Worthington nor Waternoose would give him the sour end of their deal. Randall supposed he should've been thankful that the arachnid had been so hands-off during the first machine's construction. He'd only wanted results, never the knowledge of how to get them.

Randall had fallen back to older blueprints to complicate the controls more than they already were. Only he or someone familiar with his designs could use them. The two executives could find someone else to figure out how, but likely not without having to reassemble the Scream Extractor and delaying things further.

As expected, the Scream Extractor didn't entirely have Tani's vote. She was giving it one of many wary looks that had crossed her face ever since the nozzle was attached.

Her uncertain frown turned into a grimace, "You and your shady supervisors do know you won't be getting quality screams if you actually hurt the kids, right? You'll only get them crying."

"It'll only hurt if it's set to full power or if they're attached to it for too long," he answered, double-checking one section of the machine for any loose bolts, "All it can really do is make them lose their breath for a bit."

He had no way of knowing that yet, not for certain. Not that he exactly cared.

Tani crossed her arms as she marched in front of the machine and continued to stare at it. "I don't know, Randy… Something about this doesn't feel right."

Randall knew he had no right to be upset with her, not when he still hadn't told her the whole truth, but her words got under his scales a little nevertheless. Did she have to say them here and now, when they were so close to the finish line? When they could put all of the failures, and trials, and dangers behind them?

No. No, he couldn't quit now, even if he wanted to.

"Tani," he sighed, looking her steadily in the eyes, "We've been over this. This machine is our golden ticket."

He'd go down in history for revitalizing the scaring industry. She'd be vindicated as a monster that was unjustly banished for trying to reveal the truth about humans. Kicked to the bottom, they both would be able to climb directly to the top of the monster world. At this point, the Scream Extractor was just as much a gamechanger for her as it was for him! How could she not see that?!

He blamed the botched scare. She was probably still confused over the whole thing. After all, Tani had a good heart and a tendency to root for an underdog. By the end of the day though, she was serious about scaring too: A small event like that wouldn't get to her in the long-run.

"Not long ago, you needed me to trust you to pull off a crazy stunt," Randall gave the side of the machine a firm tap, "I need you to trust me on this."

The green reptilian did give him an immediate response. An air of reluctance continued to hang over her. However, there was no way that she could ignore such a direct request. Hugging herself, she slowly nodded.

"Alright, Randall," said Tani, "I guess we've already come this far…"

He didn't have much longer to work on any fine-tuning. Within that same hour, Randall got a surprise summons from Worthington.

While it wasn't quite closing time, it was late enough in the day that staff was limited. As always, the chameleon-like monster easily snuck through the halls, following the Fear Co. CEO in-silence all the way to his office. Waternoose was also there…

Randall couldn't think of what was so important that it pulled him away from his work, or that Worthington couldn't have told him just as well back in the warehouse. That was, until a TV set on a rolling cart—like the ones used in grade schools—attracted his curiosity. It was positioned adjacent of the twin couches where he, Tani, and Worthington had first made their deal. The latter plopped down on one of them with an irritated look, his heavy brows furrowed together.

"You need to see this."

Waternoose also looked unnerved—no, furious was probably a better word for it. Anything that had managed to upset both of the scaring executives was bad news for him as well. Bewildered, Randall hesitated before sitting down. The VCR on the lower shelf whirred to life and there was a sound of a tape rewinding. A moment later, the television flickered to the recorded footage of what appeared to be a Channel 13 news broadcast. The date and time were marked for earlier that very day.

"We are about to go live at Monsters Inc., where the first test of laugh energy will be taking place in just a few minutes," the reporter explained in a steady voice,"Since the company has announced that it would go through with the test, it has been met with plenty of criticism from both its rivals and the wider public. Government officials have also spoken out, emphasizing the dangers the switch from scream energy to laugh energy might create should they even succeed. And coming off the back of a disastrous child breach—the first of its kind—is this really a solution that Monsters Inc. can afford to consider?"

A few brief clips played of different monsters giving their opinions played out. So far, it was everything that Randall expected: People were adamantly against the change. However, he understood that neither Worthington nor Waternoose had a reason to look so grim if the matter ended there. Bracing himself, he continued to watch in silence.

The minutes passed and the scene switched over to a familiar scare floor. Wazowski and Sullivan were at the heart of the shot. No amount of time had burned away the rage the lizard felt toward his former coworkers. If anything, seeing their faces again made it all come back tenfold.

There was a door already locked in-place—thankfully, not that brat's door, or else he might've lost whatever rein he had on his temper—and the area was blocked off by CDA agents from all sides. Clearly, they weren't willing to take anymore chances than they thought they had to.

"Mr. Sullivan, can you explain to us again why you are so confident in the potential of laugh energy?"

His rival paused for a moment, sharing a glance with Wazowski. Randall could only guess that they were hesitant to go into full detail about what had happened when he let the kid loose. That, or maybe the CDA had possibly warned them against saying too much.

"Well, we have proof," he began, "of our systems overloading and of doors activating on their own when they were exposed to kids' laughs. They created surges of energy similar to record-breaking scares..."

When Sullivan struggled to explain his so-called evidence, Wazowski quickly stepped in, "I-it's really a case more of show than tell! And, boy, do we have a show for you with this—come on, point the camera over here!"

The walking eyeball moved away and the camera followed him, the screen fully taken over by the view of the door and an attached scream canister as it zoomed in when the cameraman could get no closer. Wazowski looked sideways, calling someone over from off-screen. He talked with the unknown monster for a brief moment, and then shouted at the small audience gathered on the floor to attention.

A few seconds later, the light above the door activated and Wazowski walked inside, shutting the door behind him.

"They're sending in the assistant…!" the baffled and panicked voice of the reporter rang over the recording. The hand of a CDA agent reached out to keep the news crew back.

Even Randall leaned forward in his seat, not expecting this. As far as he knew, there were only two times that Wazowski had ever been in a child's room before. The first was when he broke into the door labs back at MU, and the second was when he'd gone into the brat's bedroom instead of sending her inside like Randall had insisted. It could've been a bluff, but there wasn't an ounce of uncertainty in the cyclops' steps as he entered.

What was going on? Wazowski might've been just as much of a thorn in his side, but it hadn't seemed like he cared as much for the girl as Sullivan did—rather, up until the last minute, it Wazowski seemed to want to get rid of her and wipe his hands of the whole affair more than anything else. No matter how close he was to Sullivan, why would he lead the front like this?

And why would Sullivan allow it? If he honestly believed that making kids laugh was the future of the industry, then why give up the spotlight he'd always stood under? He was the one who already had experience facing kids. Meanwhile, Wazowski had never once—

A shrill cry was heard and the camera jolted into a haze of static. From what little Randall could make of the scene, the CDA agents all pushed back against the audience, getting them further away from the door.

The cry turned to a high-pitched fit of laughter that seemed to echo through the screen. The scream canister filled in an instant, and then started to fiercely rattle against the bindings that held it in-place. It did not hold for long.

The can fired off like a bottle rocket, metal hinges clanking to the ground. It veered across the screen and a fearful shout was heard, as if it might've almost struck someone. It passed the camera another couple times, nearly hitting Wazowski as well as the cyclops exited the bedroom. He had to press his back against the surface of the door to avoid it, and remained there until the canister at last flew up toward the ceiling before taking a nosedive back down to the ground, shattering.

A whisper of a chuckle was heard as the last of its energy poured out. After that, there was only a stunned silence.

Worthington paused the footage. Randall snapped back to reality as the Fear Co. CEO cleared his throat.

"I wouldn't exactly call their test a success," he said, his mouth drawn into a hard line, "but it certainly left an impact."

Blinking away the last of his shock, the lizard found himself slowly nodding.

Damaged equipment and spilled out energy didn't spell out a success by any means. Those, however, were only technical issues. The bigger point to be taken from Sullivan and Wazowski's little demonstration was that laugh energy was, in fact, a possible substitute of screams.

And an incredibly powerful substitute at that…

Randall felt himself sink back into his seat. He couldn't really pay attention as Worthington played the last of the footage. All of the work he'd put into the Scream Extractor—more than that, everything he'd worked toward since he first decided that he wanted to become a scarer—seemed to crumble into dust right in front of him. There would still be pushback, of that he had no doubt, but he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the obvious results that had just been shown off to the world before he'd even had the chance to gather any of his own with the machine.

It couldn't be over already…

A flash of red in the corner of the screen caught his eye.

Randall stared blankly at it for a second, then squinted and pushed himself off of the couch. He leaned against the table, barking, "Wait—rewind that part!"

The two executives each raised a brow at him before Worthington complied. The footage rolled back to a place where the camera had once more panned out to a wider shot of the scare floor. As Sullivan and Wazowski resumed talking to the reporter, there was someone working on the console by the door. After the door was disconnected and sent off, the individual still lingered in the background, picking up the pieces of the ruined canister.

It was a monster that Randall knew very well.

"Fungus!" he roared through clenched teeth, slamming his fists down on the table.

It was his own assistant. For however inept he could sometimes be in that role though, Fungus did know his way with technology. That was the only reason Randall had brought the bean-shaped monster to work with him on the machine. For all the trouble he was going through though, it looked like Fungus had gotten off scot-free!

Waternoose looked a little perplexed to see Fungus, but not exactly surprised. "I did mention that one when the CDA interrogated me," he mused aloud, "Since he only played a small part, I assume he managed to strike some kind of deal."

Yes… Nevermind the evidence that Fungus had on either of them, with Monsters Inc. trying to switch over to laugh power, his technical ability would be useful. While it couldn't be proven, he'd been forced to help with the Scream Exactor anyway. Even if he was still marked as an accomplice, he was bound to get a lighter sentence.

That rationale didn't keep Randall from feeling like a generator ready to implode. Moreover, it gave him an idea: One straw to grasp in what now had become a desperate situation.