A yellow post-it has been stuck on the door, labeled 'please knock!'. So you do. There's no response, but you push the door open anyways. The room is a mess. There are papers and tools piled on tables, and empty wrappers on the floor. A huge tank lines the wall, nests hanging off of handrails built into the room, dog beds everywhere, and a fenced off corner that seems to be the calm in this storm of a room. There's a desk, a bed, a chair, a box of toys, a few potted plants, and tools on the table. Dr. Lems is asleep at their desk, a tiny white-red stranga with shades snacking on treats nearby.