Research is a necessary evil. There's a whole host of things I'd rather be doing right now, and they all share one important thing in common -- I can't do them here. Ergo: research. That Fozzy Bear guy might have been a royal douche, but he did give me an idea. So I bite my tongue -- no, I bite the bullet -- and I pull out the biggest book on physics I can find before quickly hightailing it out of the Compound. Ever since things went topsy-turvy I've been avoiding it like the plague. There's only so many hot babes making like Betty Crocker that I can handle before I start craving a different sort of cupcake, if yanno what I mean.

Still, I don't wanna wander too far away. See, the thing about research is, one book never has all the answers. Chances are I'll have to do a coupl'a more drive-bys before I get anything even close to what I'm looking for. So I settle near the Compound, easing myself down under the shade of a tree and I haul the book outta my bag. Adjusting my glasses, I get to work. Really, excruciatingly boring, work.