Speedwagon decides on the orange pill. His allergies have been acting up something fierce, not terribly used to the plains of Regina. He'd grown accustomed to the moist sea air of London and St. John's. The closest bodies of water are lakes, which, while it's nice they have beaches, they just can't compare. The air in this part of Saskatchewan is much drier than past residences, which has exposed Speedwagon to the types of flora that typically only thrives on such plains. In the first couple of weeks here, he would constantly be seen with sniffles and a tissue box refilled every few days in his locker and kept on-hand by the bench. There was some concerns with whether he could tough it out, though he'd managed alright. But now, with allergy medicine finally on offer, and for free, no less, he'll gladly take it over anything that would further mess with his inner workings, even for a new benefit. Blindness and the runs sound too awful.

(167)