FOR A NON-INVASIVE STUDY

Good money, he said. Easy money, he told me. Greg was always full of shit half the time, and this was...well, he was half right.  Three hundred bucks a day, and a place to sleep?  That part was fine.  Just fine.  Other studies I did, I'd get fifty bucks and a couple slices of crappy pizza.  This one, we got a warm bed and three hot meals and three hundred bucks cash every night we're in here.  A fine deal, just fine.  I don't know what the shots were for.  Or why so many of them.  I mean, they tried to explain it to me but all I heard was a cash register ringing.  Three hundred bucks a day and I've been here a week?  That's silly money.  What else did I need to know?  I've got a terrible cold from staying in here, though.  It's like being in the hospital, you check in and there's so many germs and things in the air you can't keep from getting sick.  But it's fine.  Just fine.  They got nurses and doctors all over the place in here, and they gave me a video game machine to keep my mind off of the rash, and the scales that are forming along my shoulders.  It itches something terrible, you know.  I haven't seen Greg in a couple days.  He must have checked out of here, last time I saw him he was coughing something fierce and complaining awful loud about the scaly patches along his face.  But me, I'm happy as a pig in you know what.  They tell me they're going to up the injections tonight, I heard them say I was pregrading at a higher rate than most.  Or maybe they said I was degrading.  I don't remember.  But aside from the coughing and the itching, I'm feeling fine.  Just fine.