"Doctor, you have to examine me. I must have been contaminated."
Faced with the aggressively approaching fourth-grader Little Chubby, the private hospital doctor felt helpless.
He dearly wished the boy really had been contaminated. That way, he could have him hospitalized for half a year, order endless tests, and collect commissions until his hands went numb.
But if something wasn't there, then it simply wasn't there.
Pointing at the report, the doctor patiently said, "You haven't been contaminated. Other than a little sleep deprivation and being overweight, there's nothing wrong with you."
"How is that possible? If I wasn't contaminated, why didn't I do my homework yesterday and instead played Dreamscape Game all day?" "Forgive me for asking, but weren't your parents home last night?"
"It would've been great if they hadn't been home. If they weren't home last night, would I have failed to finish my homework?"
The doctor stared at Little Chubby's head, feeling that the boy might really have been contaminated.
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And the contamination had broken through the blood-brain barrier and charged straight into his brain, turning the kid's mind to mush.
But the boy had undergone a comprehensive examination. His brain had been carefully checked too, and nothing was wrong.
With a sigh, the doctor set the report aside and seriously asked, "May I ask how you usually do with your homework?" "Exceptionally smoothly. Homework is my lover, the sole motivation for my existence. But yesterday, I obviously had the chance to finish it, yet I just missed it."
Recalling what had happened the night before, Little Chubby shuddered. "That feeling was so strange! You know what you're doing is wrong, but you just can't get up. At first, I convinced myself to play for one hour.