The zombies are finally getting to me, I think.

"That's disgusting! Do it again."

"But I'm running out of body parts!" There was a low, gravelly rumble from above, and he ducked another sudden volley of gore that launched out of the gallery below them. The worst of the mess was down there, but even the upper levels had reached a level of unsavory that was remarkable. They were both already encrusted with blood- the stuff was caked in every possible crevice, beneath fingernails, behind ears, between eyelashes. There were stains of other, even less wholesome substances mixing with the blood to turn their clothing a uniform shade of nauseating.

It was lovely. She pointed at the pile of viscera and other bits that had nearly hit him. "Look, there's one you can use. Quick, grab it before it goes down the drain."

He dove after the slithering pile of entrails, slipped on a puddle, and ended up under a table. Half a moment later, he popped up behind it. Someone's gizzard dangled over his ear like a particularly festive bit of jewelry. He half-slithered, half-crawled to the balcony railing and pulled himself to his feet.

"Hoy! Anyone lose an eyeball? I say! I've got an eyeball here, did anyone lose it? Anyone?" He waved the eyeball by a thin strand of muscle, causing it to bounce crazily in his grasp.

Below, the tide of red seethed and moaned as what few survivors as hadn't been liquefied or drowned stirred themselves. She leaned against the railing and watched as faces and limbs appeared in bits and pieces. "Disgusting," she murmured. There was another rumble from above, and another dozen bodies flew past their floor, already in pieces. The splash was spectacular when they hit the gallery; she ducked to avoid a pile of shredded flesh and bone.

After a moment, the writhing and bubbling subsided. He leaned against her side and offered a tongue and a knowing smile. It curled in her hand as she took it, slickly warm and bloody. She held it up and called down to the gallery, "Hello, down below! Did anyone lose a tongue? Someone seems to have misplaced it! Fresh tongue looking for a good home! Anyone? I say, anyone?"

The moaning and writhing began anew, as gloriously disgusting as before.
-------------------------------

So, people have been complaining about the temperature in the electronics lab- it's pretty chilly in there, but it's been awfully hot and humid lately. I think 68 degrees is perfectly comfortable, and I don't really want them to up the temperature.

Of course, towards the end of lab, I actually started to feel cold, so I put my jacket on. After a bit longer, I can't concentrate, so I start putting my things away. While I'm doing this, I turn to show Laura my hands and ask, "So, are your fingernails this blue, too?" And she's says, "Are you kidding me- holy shit!"

I love getting that reaction from people when I'm cold. My fingernails really do turn bright blue- poor circulation makes for such an awesome conversation piece, you know.

...what, the snippet? Damned if I know. Apparently I've got entrails on the brain. :)