Just when Crispin felt he was finally getting the upper hand on getting Zach ol’boy to talk, he felt himself disabled. Curiously hovering. Disabled, but not in pain – and not in the best position to react either, as if his limbs suddenly croaked. The easiest way to shut a cat down. But what exactly was holding him up back there??

And before he knew it – plop! Right back on his ass. Ouch.

But what hurt more was seeing Zach cower in fear like that. ‘guy could be a dick, sure, but never did Crispin think this reaction was even possible from him. He rubbed his arms uncomfortably as he watched Zach return to his seat as ordered.

And then the others he had interacted with earlier today had shown up suddenly, with Xell knocked out. This was some crazy shit.

Was [i]this[/i] the CEO? Mr. Julien certainly had the demeanor for it. As big into commentating as Crispin usually was, this time he worked to keep his mouth shut.

He pondered for a bit whether Zach was trying to con some information out of him under Julien’s command. Especially after seeing this reaction from him. But man, all Julien had to do was ask him himself if that were the case. So maybe Zach [i]was[/i] just trying to be friendly?

Then things suddenly went loud. [i]“Jess please just go drown yourself!”[/i]
Yeah, Crispin couldn’t hide a slight snicker. Good to see the dog’s back. Had to find [i]some[/i] silver lining in this mess.

Especially considering what was going on – i.e. what Crispin would’ve called a bipolar temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was about to pee himself.

[i]”Mr. Ocelot.”[/i]

[i]Oh GOD, not me! …oh, phew, okay, he’s just monologuing.[/i]

It was then Crispin learned that he must’ve taken Xell’s medication to react as poorly as he did before making it to this room.

He didn’t really know the guy, Xell – but everyone else was tossing up excuses or being too puss to do anything about his sitch. Considering the crazy kaleidoscopes of colors engulfing this room, among everything else going on, Crispin was assured [i]anything[/i] could happen in those seven minutes. They could all get fired. Julien could administer the same shot to all of them. They could all take injuries the same way bunny-girl did. Or Xell could die. Or they could all die.

Crispin loudly scratched the back of his head as he rose from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. Well, if he was going to be fired for breaking some law that Jessamine described, he’d take that shot. Beats waiting around trying not to puke. Or die.

“All right, all right, fine. Gimme the thing. I’ll do it.”

Taking a deep breath, he moved to where Xell lied with unusually firm steps. A young man definitely facing an uncomfortable situation head on.

He shuffled the syringe in his hands before firmly gripping it with his right. He was ambidextrous, but didn’t want Julien slicing him up for holding it in the wrong hand too. He looked to the injured Fleur, cringed for a moment, and – “Here it goes!” – jabbed the needle directly into Xell’s shoulder.

He hoped to whatever gods were watching that someone would take care of the gal next to him. He was a chef, not a medic. He knew first aid, but not enough to stop someone from [i]bleeding[/i] to death! Maybe this would placate that psychopath CEO??