“But, is he ready?” Staff Sergeant Jonas grew impatient with this pencil pushing, wire-rimmed glasses wearing, medic that was Doctor Benjamin Benson.

“Well our tests have revealed—”

“Screw your damn tests Doctor.” Jonas hated doctors. Which is why he said the word Doctor with the most indignant tone he could. “I don’t want to know how the toaster works, just tell me if the damn toaster can toast Toast.” Benson looked at his clipboard, anything to look away from the Staff Sergeant. “So, is he ready or not?”

“As per my recommendation—” Jonas gave him another look. This one was reserved for his marines who decided to grow a pair in front of him and wanted to show them off. “Yes."

“Good. Let’s go see him then.”

Benson nervously fiddled with his glasses as it slid down his sweaty nose. “Well what are you waiting for? An invitation to the Enchantment under the Sea Dance? Move!” Benson jumped as Jonas barked. Benson turned around and led Jonas towards the Solitary Confinement Quarters.