"It's a lab." Ford corrects, as he very carefully dodges the question about Fiddleford. "One I've been conducting some very...unorthodox research in."
There's really no good way to word what he's been doing down here without digging himself deeper and reinforcing Stan's belief that he's lost his marbles, so he's just going to hold off on the in-depth explanation for now.
He walks to the other end of the room, puts his hands on the circular latch which keeps the door sealed shut, and hesitates. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, and feels his hands begin to sweat a little. This is it: the moment of truth. Once they make it past this door, they'll be inside the lab and Stan will finally get a look at the - at the proof he needs. Or maybe they won't find anything at all. Ford's not sure which idea scares him more.
He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, and then turns the handle.
"We'll need to stand under the decontamination spray for a minute or two before the door will open to the other side."
He steps into the small enclosure, which is more or less the size of a particularly roomy closet, and waves his brother in.
"Don't worry, it's not toxic unless you ingest it. It'll just hurt like holy hell if you get it in your eyes."
Ford makes a point of taking off his glasses and slipping them into his coat, so he won't have to wipe them off later. Out of habit, he rubs at the red-spots the nose-pads leave between his eyes, though that doesn't do much to make the redness go away.
no subject
There's really no good way to word what he's been doing down here without digging himself deeper and reinforcing Stan's belief that he's lost his marbles, so he's just going to hold off on the in-depth explanation for now.
He walks to the other end of the room, puts his hands on the circular latch which keeps the door sealed shut, and hesitates. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, and feels his hands begin to sweat a little. This is it: the moment of truth. Once they make it past this door, they'll be inside the lab and Stan will finally get a look at the - at the proof he needs. Or maybe they won't find anything at all. Ford's not sure which idea scares him more.
He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry, and then turns the handle.
"We'll need to stand under the decontamination spray for a minute or two before the door will open to the other side."
He steps into the small enclosure, which is more or less the size of a particularly roomy closet, and waves his brother in.
"Don't worry, it's not toxic unless you ingest it. It'll just hurt like holy hell if you get it in your eyes."
Ford makes a point of taking off his glasses and slipping them into his coat, so he won't have to wipe them off later. Out of habit, he rubs at the red-spots the nose-pads leave between his eyes, though that doesn't do much to make the redness go away.