Larson walked out the door, disgusted. Smith clapped, not the racious, annoying laughter that was considered 'normal' clapping, but a polite Golf clap. "Handled him like a pro." He said, "bravo-zulu to the fifteenth power." He said, still smiling.
He looked at this Doctor Wilson before his professional curiousity overtook him. "So," he said, walking towards the man/zombie. "Where'd you study for your doctorate? I was able to get in at the Mayo in Rochester, Minnesota... you?"
hit(&head, desk, HARD);