Just in case, you ask aloud if anything in here can talk. Nothing answers.

The large screen is surrounded by old x-rays of various things, even animals. You're pretty sure it's one of those cartoon-style x-ray machines you can just stand behind. Hopefully it doesn't fry you to death or something.

The refrigerator is freezing cold to the touch. The crude, crayon drawing of Dr. Phage is signed....Dr. Phage. You are suddenly compelled to take it down and put it up against the laboratory's window, using the same magnet to tack it in place.

The rat has an extremely oversized human ear growing out of its back. It sits calmly, unblinking, twitching nose the only indication of life.

The large chrysalis-like thing twitches every few seconds.

The thing in the jar doesn't move. The scent of sour pickle brine wafts from the container.

The things in the petri dishes undulate and squirm. You don't want to touch them.

The photo on the wall depicts some half-decayed figure with a visible brain. In the corner you can just make out, in fine print, "THANKS FOR THE TURTLE!" Okay.

The cabinets and drawers are stuffed with garbage, like those in the exam room. Also a lot of dead bugs, but mercifully normal ones.

The pale thing in the tray is motionless and crawls with maggots. You've seen far worse today, and you've never been squeamish about anything, yet you feel increasing nausea every moment that you're looking directly at the rubbery little corpse. Creepy.