"It's been middle hydrogen tested". This was said by Dr. Sheen Church, a notable and highly influential scientist who was leading the research team. His glossy syntax shined beyond compare. He looked at the waning floor, debating his next move. He was one side vet away from giving up his project without a solution. Dr. Church almost allowed his maggoty shelf fear to take over, until he remembered his previous days as a soldier in training. He recalled hearing his replacement major, Ratcliff, shouting orders in his ear for hours on end. "I test bungalows for a living and these look like shit!"; this was motivation to work harder today. Raring Circulation Bioengineering (RCB) was on the brink of discovering the cure to the Russian super virus and if Dr. Church didn't produce results, there would be hell to pay. After analyzing the protein's helicoidal structure, he noticed the rhymed hirudin stubbed upwards. "My god", Dr. Church muttered, "hand me the ingate silt and we'll send a mold to Washington". Church's colleague was in awe of his mentor's genius and could do nothing more than give an approving nod, "the Russians don't stand a chance".
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