"How could he do this to us!?" Warren thought to himself, “I can hear that back stabber in the meeting now, ‘Why sure, the more the merrier. What's that, you need space for the ant colonies too, sure, we've got acres of space, we'll just put them down in Nuclear Physics with Warren. Heh, he could use a few friends down there. Now, lets say you gentleman come with me in my effeminate little pill box of a car and well go piss away the rest of the department's budget on cotton candy machine for the directors lounge.’” Warren was practically yelling now. He didn't care, no one could here him down there in his office, no one but the ants. "Oh, wait, not my office, oh ho ho ho no! What does the sign say my little pretties? 'Radio-Nuclear Physics Laboratories - Director Warren S. PhD; Etymology Storage'," Warren sighed, "at least they left my name at the top." Warren placed his results clipboard on a large stack of results sitting precariously on the corner of his desk. The desk had once been surrounded by shelves of books and papers, but all of that had to be moved out to make space for the 4 large plastic aquariums of ants that now stood along one wall of the room. All of Warrens books and papers were strewn in untidy piles on his desk and chair, and scattered around the floor leaving only a narrow path from the door to the case of controls on the opposite wall. the office had never been spacious by any means, but Warren had little need for a large workspace. However, once the workmen installed the 4 large tanks, not to mention the crisscrossing network of clear plastic tubing connecting them to the ants in other storage rooms, there was scarily enough room for Warren to stretch his arms out. The tanks blocked the one wall outlet in the room, so now the only light left was the small stream that came in from the florescent lights at the end of the hallway. Warren couldn't even sit at his desk and look over to monitor the control panel for the test equipment in the next room anymore, relegated instead to balancing sideways between the stacks of books and papers and the ant's plastic tubing to see the readouts. Warren blew the arrant strands of his comb-over out of his face and sat down hard on the stack of thick teachers editions he had made his new make shift chair. He let out another sigh and continued grumbling. He reached up for the cup of coffee he had placed on to of the tank nearest his desk. Warren took a few sips and looked down at the cup with a sower expression, it was awful. "Perfect," he thought, "you'd think if they were trying to kill me she could just get it over with rather than this slow torture. Yesterday it chicory, before that its orange zest, what the hell is this? It tastes like cheese!" Warren moved to set the coffee back on to of the tank, then thinking twice he quickly downed the rest of it and threw the cup at the tank in the far corner of the room. "Have some coffee you ingrates!"