Dr. Klaus entered Dr. Meinfuch's waiting room. It was pretty run-down and dimly lit, but Dr. Meinfuch had only just opened his practice. The cinder block walls were painted tan and the paint had black scuffs all over the wall and in one corner, the paint was peeling. In another corner sat a second-hand plastic kid's table with a clear bin of Duplo inside of it. The Duplo was badly scratched up and had been yellowed from years of abuse by toddlers. On a shelf high up on the wall a lone portable Telefunken radio was blasting Albatros by Karat, though the sound had little bass to it. Dr Klaus, a thin, tall, tired man in his '60's found a chair and had slumped into it severely depressed. He was a surgeon working for the CIA and had helped many clients escape their abusers by performing plastic surgery on them to make them look different. Unfortunately, the CIA had fired him as a surgeon for his lack of ethics and so he relocated to the South, but couldn't find work in any of the local hospitals. And so, when Helga, Dr. Meinfuch's receptionist, called his name to go back to see Dr. Meinfuch, Dr. Klaus shuffled his way to the door or Dr. Meinfuch's office and disappeared. Two hours later, Dr Klaus came back out smiling. Dr, Klaus had a new job working for Dr. Meinfuch as his new surgeon. Dr. Meinfuch promised Dr. Klaus a floor in his warehouse to set up shop, money for new tools, and a relaxed environment in which to work in with little to no oversight. And so, it seemed like over night, Dr. Klaus' depression went away.