He really didn't know what was going on at the moment; his head ached, sounding like a combination of drone and static, and his nose was stuffed up and plugged as if from an allergic reaction to something, and also he had coughed up so much phlegm that he thought, just for a quick second, that he should see a doctor. The phlegm was clear and not black, which he thought was a pretty good sign.
Angst walked into the room, carrying a tray; on it he saw soup and a huge glass of orange juice. She looked angelic, he thought he could see an aura about her, through his itchy eyes.
"Frank says you've been moody lately," Angst said as she placed the tray in front of him. "I've brought you some good old fashioned homemade cure that will battle those evil germs inside you!"
"Even you," he said out loud.
"What was that?" Angst inquired.
"Nothing," he said as he propped himself up.
He was under the impression since he woke up that everyone was coddling him, though he felt like it was more of an act than sincere. He didn't know what was different and strange about him; even the yellow shirt he had on showed a huge coin slot with the slogan Quarters Go Here.
