Matthew looked at the Mudokon, and was a little more frightened by the appearance of him. Dark blue and far stronger looking than Joel normally was something he didn't not want to look into a Mudokon. Big Bros were enough, Mudokons didn't need to go onto the steroids. Perhaps he could get him to at least be a friend of his.
Matthew attempted to make a joke and replied swiftily, trying to get his shock off of his face at the same time, "OK first, we need to get you to have a new hip outfit. We need to put put some color on our pants, give you an Intern cap, alng with an undershirt. I mean look at you, you're as dull as a bird in a factory!" Matthew waited for the Mudokon to respond.
Isaac finally collected enough meat on the ground back into his barrel, using a cloth he packed into his pocket, as well as his hands. Making his cloth bloody and his hands, Isaac knew that he had to eventually clean off. But first, he had to get all of the meat clean of dirt. Isaac lifted his barrel up into the air and triedto look around. He tried to find a hose, so he could fill to barrel with water. He started to walk onto the platform he was on, searching for some kind of barrel. Isaac was relieved a Slig wasn't watching, or else he would be punished for not working.
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Slap got out of the Labortory before someone started to talk to him. Finally, he could work on his job and not have to worry about some sob story about a Slig's or a Vykker's poor life. But he could hear the two Vykkers in the Labortory, discussing some matters by themselves. He wondered how much time they actually spent performing surgeries, than talking about the past.
As Slap walked around the corriders, he noted on how the factory was remarkbly large and very dark. The pipes and all kinds of machinery above him hummed with movement, like a living breathing monster. The lights blinked on the wall, almost giving a feeling that it was night time. It never seemed to fail to be like that. Since no light came into the factory, artifical light brigthened the place, but like those time, the factory just seemed not big enough to make it look like day there. Normally, back at the hostipal and the Vykker Labs he was raised in, the light of day shone into the facility turning the lightning to represent what it was like outside. Here, it was just plain dark, making everyone's skin tone to appear darker. When he was normally pale, his skin was turning a light shade of bluish purple. Strange how it was, he liked it all. Made him feel that he wasn't back where Dr. Eloha lived.
Slap was starting to think of how he was going to get all of these supplies, when he was interrupted by the worn out Arthur. He seemed highly deprived of required energy, just by his breathing. Slap was curious how that was so, since usually Sligs only get tired from running when their brain is working hard to pulse his pants to go into that kind of gear. He realized that he needed the number for the Chronicler. Slap sighed and opened up his laptop. He needed to work on a patient so he typed, "eight-six-six-four-two-one." He tried to avoid saying anything else, since he feared of having to go through another conversation.
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