Kong Lab Civil War: The Middle

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As it turns out, sleep deprivation is no joke. My mind was so addled with lack of sleep that I did not immediately note the historical significance of my declaration (Dec 7). In fact, anything I said that day should be blotted from the records. Words are my enemy when I am sleep deprived.

As soon as I made the dramatic statement, my allies drowned each other out.

“That is NOT a hippie purse.”

“Did you mean hipster instead of hippie?”

“Go home now, Xazmin!”

“It looks more hipster than hippie.”

“Hipster and hippie, what’s the difference?”

“What are you still doing here?”

I surveyed my work and smirked. I knew my girls (Mari, Min, Ying, and Yuwen) would not allow Thai to get away with such a statement. So I swung the purse across my body and quickly exited the laboratory.

I drove home, climbed into bed, and dreamed the rest of the night into oblivion. 

***

Sleep is the cure to everything. Not true at all, but I still like to quote it often. I returned to the lab invigorated. Words held no weight, war was forgotten, and all was well in the Kong kingdom for a peaceful record of two days. Unfortunately, alcohol was spent, which was quickly followed by the drums of war.   

The provocation this time was not caused by indolent language. Thai claims that it was due to a “faulty” spray bottle. I maintain it was an act of aggression for past accusations. Basically, Thai and I were propagating cancer cell lines in the two-person tissue culture laminar flow hood. I occupied the left side, while he worked on the right side. I fleetingly lifted the lid to my plate of cells as Thai opportunely sprayed his gloves with the ethanol bottle (standard aseptic technique). With Legolas-like aim, the alcohol squirted directly onto my plate of cells. 

"Oi! Watch where you're pointing that!" 

"Oh! I'm sorry."

"Are you trying to kill my cells?"

"No! I swear I wasn't!"

 "Hmm... I see I've got to watch my back with you." 

No more than two minutes passed when Thai sprayed his gloves to re-enter the TC hood. This time, the jet of alcohol hit me in the corner of my right eye. 

"Really?! Really, Thai? So was I the original target when you ‘accidentally’ sprayed my cells earlier?

“Something’s wrong with this bottle. Sorry.”

Needless to further explain, shots had been fired and war was declared back on for the next three days. 

***

To be continued