The places that I clean include Laboratory 33.  Laboratory 33 contains an experimental machine that will enable me to cure my problems.  What goes on in Laboratory 33 is very secret, but what scientist worries about being overheard by a brain damaged, crippled janitor?

Tonight, I’ll use the machine and cure me, or I’ll die, or maybe both.

I have managed to obtain an old, heavy handgun and fairly recent ammunition, from the basement of the museum that the university runs.  The security screens would have detected the heavy metal handgun, but I’m able to use a disabled access entrance that doesn’t use the security screens.

I have dressed myself in a miserable charity sale suit.  The suit is several sizes too large and hangs on me like a sack.  However, it was cheap and all that I could afford on my miserable janitor’s pay.  I’ll likely need to wear a larger suit, after I do what I have planned.

I hobble through my cleaning route, pushing the barrel that I use to dump the contents of wastebaskets or ashtrays into.  The guards see me, but they pay no real attention to the brain damaged cripple.  It seems to take forever, but I finally hobble down the hallway to Laboratory 33.  I use my janitor key and enter the room.  I then place a note on the control console and tape another note to the roof of the transport chamber.  I power on the machine, set in the parameters that I need, hobble over and manage to place myself in the transport chamber, the machine activates and suddenly, I find myself in what we kids always called the small park, back when.  I’m in a dark corner of the little park and no one seems to notice my arrival.

I hobble down to Delphon Street and then along the street, dark because of budget cuts that have eliminated two of every three street lights.  No matter, I have enough light for what I need to do.