"Mudd?"
Donovan knocked on the door again. "Mudd! Wake up!"
"Do I have to?"
Donovan sighed. "Yes, you do." He shook his head. "What is it today?"
"Still haven't figured it out yet," came the reply from inside the room.
"Haven't figured it out yet?" Donovan was puzzled. "What's taking so long?"
"Well, finding out would require me to get out of this bed," Wallace Mudd replied, "and I don't see that in my future."
"Dammit, Wally! You act like you're on chemo again!"
"Sometimes I wish I were."
Donovan rolled his eyes. "For the sympathy? For the free food? Don't tell me you'd rather go back to that than live with what 331 did to you."
"If it weren't for 331, I might be able to wake up just once and not have to worry about a different mutation than the one I had yesterday."
Donovan sighed. "Come on, bro. It's not that bad. You've been using them to help people. To me that's better than having to be on drugs that half poison you every day."
"You haven't had to wake up with the legs of a frog or with the ability to shoot water out your nostrils with the force of a fire hose. I could go on, you know. I've got more."
"Mudd!" Donovan snapped. "You do this to me all the time! Who's your brother? Who's letting you live here for free? Who's taken care of you ever since you first got sick?"
"Half brother."
"Don't do this with me, Mudd. Get out of that bed and go wash up. We've got work to do."
"More stuff at the office?"
"Something like that."
"Fine, fine." There was a rustling on the other side of the door. "I don't know why I put up with this."
"Shut up, Mudd."
"Hey, this is friggin' sweet!"
"What?"
"It looks like I have extra joints in my knees today! I can do that Matrix thing really easy!"
Donovan Mitchell shook his head. You really had to have the patience of a saint to deal with this on a daily basis.
