Well. The first meeting is simple. Tim watches the designated first aid table, glancing over far too often and even occasionally offering a dry, tiny, polite smile when caught looking. Any residents who are in need of medical care... so, he figures, this must be the guy.

Then he makes himself scarce, like a rat in a trash heap.

The next day, he still can't make up his mind if he oughta lead with What's our protocol for Ebola, or What's a spleen do anyway, or Are mental health services included in your offer.

Tim, keeping a good enough distance when he eventually musters the courage to approach, says, "If I find Plaster of Paris, d'you think you can get me a cast?" And with his right arm held (fatigued) across his middle, Tim thinks he doesn't have to elaborate. "I tried to set it a few days ago but it's. Uh."

How do you say hurts like a female dog without looking like a lil female dog. Asking for a friend.