Norman smiles thinly, in a way that doesn't reach his eyes and isn't trying to.
"It's good that you have a sense of humor about this. That will help you." A beat, as he turns to Numbers. "You'll just have to describe this to your friend for me, okay?"
He bends down and grabs his black bag, talking almost conversationally as he opens it. "I saw that you didn't take anything, other than my gas mask. Which, you know, you can get at the Civil Defense office. You don't have to steal them from law-abiding citizens."
Norman sets the smallest plastic terrarium on the table between them, a single mouse scurrying from end to end, each time standing on its hind legs to press pink hands to the clear plastic, nose quivering as it investigates the sudden change in its surroundings. He sets two syringes and two vials down next to the tank, pulled from the safe that was broken into earlier: the labels read PANCURONIUM BROMIDE and POTASSIUM CHLORIDE INJ.
"I thought I'd demonstrate what these things do, give you laymen the full picture," he says as he prepares each syringe, drawing up a minute amount of their respective contents and leaving them upright, prepared and sticking out of the tops of the vials. "It's different when you're just standing in someone's home reading labels."
Norman opens the lime green lid to the carrier and scruffs the mouse in a single, practiced move, injecting first with pancuronium bromide: all at once, its thrashing attempts to escape from his hand stops. Its body sags; its chest stops expanding. He sets down the first syringe and pulls the second. "Now, believe it or not, he's not dead yet. He can feel it, though. He knows he's going to die, just like a human. He just can't do anything about it. You were sniffing around a paralytic agent."
"But this will end his suffering." The second injection follows; there's no visible change in the already frozen animal. "It's very painful. For humans and for animals. But once the heart stops, there is no more life if nobody's around to restart it."
He sets down the syringe and pushes the warm carcass across the table until its white-furred back brushes Numbers' hand. "Feel it. No heartbeat. Show your friend.
cw animal cruelty/mouse death by lethal injection, needles
"It's good that you have a sense of humor about this. That will help you." A beat, as he turns to Numbers. "You'll just have to describe this to your friend for me, okay?"
He bends down and grabs his black bag, talking almost conversationally as he opens it. "I saw that you didn't take anything, other than my gas mask. Which, you know, you can get at the Civil Defense office. You don't have to steal them from law-abiding citizens."
Norman sets the smallest plastic terrarium on the table between them, a single mouse scurrying from end to end, each time standing on its hind legs to press pink hands to the clear plastic, nose quivering as it investigates the sudden change in its surroundings. He sets two syringes and two vials down next to the tank, pulled from the safe that was broken into earlier: the labels read PANCURONIUM BROMIDE and POTASSIUM CHLORIDE INJ.
"I thought I'd demonstrate what these things do, give you laymen the full picture," he says as he prepares each syringe, drawing up a minute amount of their respective contents and leaving them upright, prepared and sticking out of the tops of the vials. "It's different when you're just standing in someone's home reading labels."
Norman opens the lime green lid to the carrier and scruffs the mouse in a single, practiced move, injecting first with pancuronium bromide: all at once, its thrashing attempts to escape from his hand stops. Its body sags; its chest stops expanding. He sets down the first syringe and pulls the second. "Now, believe it or not, he's not dead yet. He can feel it, though. He knows he's going to die, just like a human. He just can't do anything about it. You were sniffing around a paralytic agent."
"But this will end his suffering." The second injection follows; there's no visible change in the already frozen animal. "It's very painful. For humans and for animals. But once the heart stops, there is no more life if nobody's around to restart it."
He sets down the syringe and pushes the warm carcass across the table until its white-furred back brushes Numbers' hand. "Feel it. No heartbeat. Show your friend.
Do you understand?"