The doctor walked into the lab, coffee in hand, the day’s paper under his arm. He smelled of last night’s beer bottles and stale cigarettes. The lab assistant shook the smell from her nose
“How are we looking today, lab assistant?” the doctor asked. The lab assistant fluffed her notes from the previous night and put on a fake smile.
“Actually, something pretty fantastic looking,” she beamed. The doctor put down his coffee and paper then looked unamused.
“I’ll be the judge of what’s fantastic or not,” he said lazily moving over to the testing table. Together, they stared down at the Petri dish. Inside was a pink mold with little blue and white bubbles moving back and forth. The lab assistant cleared her throat.
“Well, I’ve discovered that they have transitive properties.”
“How so?”
“If I say mean things to one sect, it will become sad and influence the others around it into being sad as well.” The doctor looked back suspiciously. The lab assistant saw his doubt and leaned down to the Petri dish.
“You are worthless.” She bent back up and waited. For a moment, nothing happened and the doctor almost turned away before the white specs started to cry quietly. They turned purple, then blue, then green. They surrounded the blue bubbles and they started to cry as well. The doctor took a deep breath.
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that anymore,” he suggested. The lab assistant agreed.
