Hermann was delighted. Since the destruction of the portal, they'd finally found time to clean up the lab. It wouldn't last, he knew, but for now it looked marvelous. Simply marvelous. He didn't even have to erase any phalluses before using the chalkboard. The lovely smell of chalk dust filled the air, without the slightest trace of odiously leftover dim sum.

"Remind me to carry the three," he told Newt, blissfully scrawling out his latest formula.

Newt didn't reply with some sarcastic rejoinder, so Hermann knew something was wrong. He left his formula in the womb and turned to look. Oh dear.

For a moment, Newt too had seemed to clean up. He got new glasses, he combed his hair, he even shaved. But that was apparently just for the V-day celebration. Now his hair was standing on end like an angry cat. "Dude. It's seventy degrees in here. I've been thinking about particle physics for the last twenty minutes. Why are my nipples hard?"

Hermann didn't loose a long-suffering sigh. He knew it'd be more appropriate later. "I'm sure even if I did know, I wouldn't want to."

"Man, you gotta feel my nipples! Look at these little guys! They're throwing a party here!"

Now Hermann sighed. He couldn't have held it in any longer. "Please, Newton, this work is extremely important. By extrapolating from the Kaiju extinction of the dinosaurs to the first Breach, we can accurately gauge how long it will take for the portal to be rebuilt."

Newt mopped at his damp forehead, took a shallow breath, and fixed Hermann with a wide-eyed stare. "I think I'm turning into a Kaiju."

Hermann began in the belief that he'd misheard. "A cat Jew?"

"No, the giant monster! Cats aren't even kosher!"

"Is this because of the drift?"

"Yeah, man, the drift!"

"Surely not. I drifted with the infant Kaiju as well and I assure you I'm spouting no tentacles."

"Oh man, I hope I don't get tentacles." Newt's head fell into his hands. "But don't you worry, Hermann. You only did it once. I double-dipped. I… I think I'm starting to glow a little."

"You're not glowing," Hermann snapped. "I insist you stop this foolishness now and get back to work! It's of paramount importance! Paramount!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Newt glanced at the chalkboard. "That looks about right. Don't forget to carry the three."

Hermann hummed approvingly and continued scratching out equations. Yes, yes that looked promising. He'd have to feed it into the computer for a model forthwith!

He looked back at Newt. The man seemed in higher spirits. He was eating a donut. "Hermann," he said, his mouth a little full. "I'm gonna need you to do me a favor."

"I probably won't," Hermann replied.

"When I turn into a Kaiju, I want you to kill me."

Hermann fumbled the chalk. "What?"

"I'm serious, man. I don't wanna go through life as a giant monster with four arms and six eyes and… who knows how many tongues! I just want someone to take me out, quick and painless."

"I am not 'taking you out' because you are not turning into a Kaiju! Do you have any idea of the calorie intake turning into a two-hundred-foot monster would require?"

Newt looked at the donut in his hand. "I ate two breakfasts this morning…"

"You're American! You do things like that!"

"Just promise me, man! It's just like a werewolf. You have to put me out of my misery before I run all over London, biting people."

Hermann pinched his lips together. "Very well. Alright. In the extremely unlikely event you become a Kaiju, I promise to execute you humanely rather than keep you alive for study."

Newt blinked. "Whoa, man, that's an option?"

Newt didn't mention it again for the rest of the week, so Hermann assumed he'd gotten some good sleep, possibly a decent meal, maybe even resumed his medication, and abandoned the notion. Of course, Hermann was nice enough not to bring it up himself. He considered the matter closed until, in the middle of his lecture to Marshall Hansen and assorted Shatterdome command staff, Newt disappeared. After he didn't return for ten minutes, Hermann ceased his discourse on plate tectonics ("Oh, thank Christ," Raleigh muttered) and called for an intermission.

He found Newt in the bathroom. At least, his pants and feet, under the stall.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded of the stall door, which he was very happy to keep shut.

"Man, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Obviously!" Hermann took off his glasses for a quick cleansing. "But I don't recall your defecations ever needing fifteen minutes!"

"Herm, you time my poots?"

"I'm a scientist. I notice things." Hermann carefully secured his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "You've been visiting the bathroom much more frequently than usual. While I'm thankful not to have a repeat of the Mountain Dew incident, I demand to know the reason for this!"

Newt sighed and opened the door. Hermann pushed it shut before it could swing open.

"I can hear you just fine through the door."

Newt sounded wounded. "But you can't see my face."

"I can picture your face just fine. I know what your face looks like."

"Okay… look, it's like this. What's the one thing we know is an allergen to Jaegers?"

"Methylcellulose, why? We were never able to weaponize it."

"Yes, but what's the prime ingredients of some laxatives? Methylcellulose, right? So I figure, I take enough laxatives, I'll burn the Kaiju infection right out of me."

"But why laxatives?" Hermann insisted, a little worried at the pause he didn't need to understand this. "Why not take the chemical directly?"

"Because I gotta poot out the Kaiju, man! I gotta poot it out!"

That sounded like the cue for Hermann's sigh. He only allowed himself one per conversation with Newt. "I wash my hands of this situation. Do you hear me? I wash my hands of it."

He went to the sink and turned on the water.

"You don't have to actually wash your hands," Newt said helpfully.

"Yes I do, I've been in a restroom."

Again, the subject came to a rest. Newt's increase in bathroom visits didn't affect his work output overly much, and at least he wasn't going on anymore about whether he had grown an inch or just forgotten to take off his shoes before he measured himself. Aside from Raleigh occasionally making jokes about Newt having a tail or three eyes, it was easy for Hermann to imagine his partner was a rational adult of only mild insanity.

That, of course, didn't last.

"Could you tell the President to wait just five minutes?" Newt asked, in the new North American Shatterdome, about to give a presentation on Kaiju deterrence to the aforementioned head of state, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, most of the UN, and Academy Award winner Zac Efron, who was a huge Jaeger fan.

Hermann looked around at the command staff. You could see how long they'd been with the PPDC by who had faces that assumed he was kidding and who knew he wasn't.

"Five seconds," he told them, and they ran off to busy themselves with other things.

"No, minutes, minu—"

Hermann covered Newt's mouth. "What is the problem?"

Newt pushed his hand down. "I just realized: I'm outta laxatives! I didn't pack them on the flight from Hong Kong, That's fourteen hours right there. And right after this, I have to get back on a plane and go to Germany. That's another twelve hours. I could have another head by then! We have to stop, I have to go to the commissary, they've gotta have something…"

Newt tried to move, so Hermann swished his cane in front of him. "Newton! Humans cannot change into Kaiju! It is scientifically impossible! Control yourself!"

Newt looked at him. Hermann swished his cane some more before setting it down to lean on. Newt, realizing his forehead was beaded with sweat, wiped it with his tie.

"I know it probably won't happen," he said quietly. "But man, I had a giant monster on my ass, I had a smaller but still pretty big one eat a guy in front of me, I mind-melded aliens twice… I'm having a weird year! But with my laxatives, at least I know I won't turn into a giant lizard, or a giant octopus, or any kinda giant! I like being regular-size, Herm!"

Hermann sighed. Newt stood there, shaking a bit like Hermann imagined a lamb would after being shorn. Then, with one last fidget, he headed for the door, deciding to go through with it.

"Newton!" Hermann called after him.

Newt looked back.

Very deliberately, Hermann dropped his briefcase on a nearby desk, opened it up, rifled through the various papers and folders, and came up with a small pill bottle. "I thought you might run out."

Newton paused a second before snatching it up. "I never knew you cared that much about my bowel movements," he said earnestly.

"It's nothing. We all have our… superstitions." Hermann waved his cane around. "I don't even need this thing! My limp is entirely psychosomatic."

"Oh," Newton said in a small voice. "Your thing is actually bigger than mine. I just poot a lot."

"You're keeping the President waiting," Hermann reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, oh—sorry." Newton shoved the bottle in his pocket. "The cane looks good on you, though."

"Off with you!"

"You're nice!" Newton shouted as he ran off.

"I… yes, well…" Hermann realized he was talking to an empty room. "It only cost two dollars," he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.