Don't know much about the science book...

[Frankie Prescotti]

The newly normally pinkish colored woman glanced around the yard as she walked up o the front door of the APE house. She checked to see that she had her notebook and pen before knocking confidently on the door.

[George Blythe]

Caught by suprise, George turned around and opened the door with his new thermi-fungulator still on his head. Seeing Frankie, he gave an apologetic sort of smile, and took it off his head and cradled it in his arms. "Erm, hallo." he said. "Can I help you?"

[Frankie Prescotti]

The photographer raised her brows and tried not to laugh. "Hello, Mister Blythe. I figured I would stop by to ask you some questions about what was going on in town. You mentioned you were a paranormal investigator." She pointed out, smiling.

[George Blythe]

"Oh!" George said, taking a few moments for this to sink in. "Yes, I did. Of course! I mean, I am. Let me just..." George turned away from the door and put the thermi-fungulator down carefully. "Do you want to come in? I'm afraid it isn't very tidy."

[Frankie Prescotti]

"That's just fine, Mister Blythe. I'm just glad you wanted to talk." She said, stepping inside, looling curiously at the thermi-fungulator. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?" Frankie asked. "You wouldn't happen to be investigating what turned people all those funny colors, would you?"

[George Blythe]

"Ah, no." George closed the door behind her and led her to a sofa that was rather stained and sent a small cloud of dust spinning when he sat down on it. "I'm still not certain what caused that. Seeing as everyone's turned back now, it makes experiments a bit more difficult." He beamed at her. "But it's all very exciting."

[Tobias Blythe]

"I'm home," Tobias announced, door slamming shut behind him. "Do we have any books on Hamlet? And, um, hello," he added, noticing Frankie.

[Frankie Prescotti]

Frankie was a little taken aback by the dust, but sat on the farthest end of the couch away from George. "Yes, very." She agreed, taking out her pad and paper. "Now then, what sorts of things are you investigating? Did you hear that the same goo at the party came out of the pipes at the diner? Is that worrying at all to you?" She waved. "I'm interviewing your father!"

[George Blythe]

"It did? Panting Planets!" George's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's interesting. What happened exactly?" He eyed the pad and paper. "Are you from the newspaper?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"Goo attacked the farm too," Tobias said, passing the couch on his way to the kitchen. "People were talking about it at school."

[Frankie Prescotti]

"Aw, well, yes." She admitted with a shrug, glancing back at Tobias. "I'm sure the school library would have something," Frankie added. "I guess the goo just came out of the pipes, and splashed a whole bunch of people who were in there. Nasty stuff. Do you think there's a corellation between the goo and people changing colors?"

[George Blythe]

"Well." George settled back on the couch. "It would certainly seem likely. But to assume that two such phenomenon were related simply because they appeared at the same time would be a mistake. After all, not all who were touched by the goo went different colors, did they?" He glanced over to his son. "The farm? How curious."

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias nodded. "There was something about their cows changing colors."

[Frankie Prescotti]

"In all three instances, things changed color after being introduced to the goo." The photographer pointed out, writing furiously. "Do you have any idea what the goo is made of?" She asked.

[George Blythe]

"Cows?" George looked at his son. "All mammals, then, interesting." Then turned back to the question. "True enough, but I'd hate to make any statement without it being fully backed up by fact." George asserted. "The sample that we have from the plant is at least fifty percent jello, but contains a mild acid and some sort of yeast as well as some alien substances which we have not yet identified." he glanced over to her notebook eagerly. "You're getting all of this?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"Are you going to put this in the paper?" Tobias asked, propping his arms on the back of the couch and peering down at Frankie's notebook.

[Frankie Prescotti]

"Trying." The woman answered, frowning as she continued to write, flipping forward a few pages. "And what do you mean by alien substances? And who's we?" She looked over at Tobias. "Do you help your father with his work?" She asked, befor shrugging. "Maybe. My boss decides what goes in the paper. I can take your picture for it, for sure." Frankie added, patting her camera case.

[George Blythe]

"Ah, it's my associates and I. That's Anton Solucio Conrad Beecher and myself. We work together. Alien substances means that we don't know what they are. Yet." He grinned at her. "I could slow down if you like. I wouldn't want you to get it wrong."

[Tobias Blythe]

"Uh, not usually," Tobias answered. "Dad, do we have any food besides cereal yet?"

[Frankie Prescotti]

"I'm keeping up, mostly. Anton Solucio. Conrad Beecher." Frankie repeated, grinning back. "And what would you say to people that question the fact that a troupe of paranormal investigators show up right before strange things happen?" She asked lightly, pen poised.

[George Blythe]

George puckered his brow. "I hadn't thought of that." he glanced at his son distractedly, saying "I think Anton might have bought some carrots" as he thought up an answer for Frankie. "We were just lucky, I guess."

[Frankie Prescotti]

Frankie glanced between father and son before taking another quick note. "Just lucky?" She asked. "That's an odd why to put it. Some people are going to say things happened before you came here. What's your experience with the paranormal anyways?" The reporter asked, her tone turning a bit more sharp.

[Tobias Blythe]

"You could show her the expriments you did trying to get our skin color back to normal," Toby suggested. "And all that other stuff that's down in the lab."

[George Blythe]

"I, ah, well, it's been mostly theoretical..." George started, before Toby spoke and he turned on his son with a frown. "Tobias!" he said loudly. "Would you, ah, go and see if that cheese is all used up? And stop talking about things that don't concern you?"

[Frankie Prescotti]

"So you have no practical experience?" She asked, sounding a little unimpressed. "Oh, yes, seeing the lab would be great!" Frankie said, grinning at Tobias. "And you were doing experiments about people's color changes?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias started, looking confused and a bit hurt. "I thought you wanted me to call it the lab."

[George Blythe]

"Tobias!" George growled, rising from his seat. "I'm sorry, the basement is private. Some, ah, delicate experiments in there." He looked at Frankie, evidently flustered. "And no, we have had little practical experience, but as I said we are only investigators. We're a private group, we're not being paid by anyone." he exhaled heavily. "Is that all of the questions?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"I'll go check on the cheese," Tobias said, darting out of the room.

[Frankie Prescotti]

"I don't think so." The photographer said calmly. "When and why did your group start?" She asked, making a note of the man's conversation with Toby. "You were pretty quick to reiterate that you're a private group." She said, raising her brows and glancing around. "Could have deduced that from the state of the house."

[George Blythe]

"I just meant that no one was employing us." George said, looking at her. "We met at college, and then decided to branch out and do some research of our own. We only just moved in."

[Conrad Beecher]

Conrad burst into the house and opened his mouth to say something, but then just left it open, staring at Frankie. "Uhhh, who are you again? Did you have an appointment? Lectorachnoids need checking?"

[Frankie Prescotti]

"Researching what, exactly, Mister Blythe? Can I call you George?" She asked, smiling again. "I don't know much about the paranormal, but it seems like a rather large field of study." Frankie looked up from her notes and stood, holding out her hand. "I'm Frankie Prescotti. From the Gazette. I stopped by to ask some questions about you folks. What's a Lectro,er,noid?"

[George Blythe]

"Well, quite." George said to Frankie. "Conrad, ah, this is..." he trailed off, looking at Frankie blankly. "And the Lectorachnoids should be fine, just give them some sugar. It's just a sort of spadulic monthrometer."

[Conrad Beecher]

Conrad shook her hand, looking stumped. "It's a...thing." He glanced at George. "Sugar, right. Thanks." He walked off to a cabinet and began searching for the sugar.

[Frankie Prescotti]

"You people are pretty closed lipped around here." Frankie commented, taking another seat. "George, you didn't answer my question. What aspects of the paranormal are you most interested in?" She asked again, looking up at him curiously.

[Conrad Beecher]

"We're scientists," Conrad replied for his friend, his back to Frankie as he still rummaged through the cabinet for the sugar. "Everything we do is strictly scientific. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Nope."

[George Blythe]

"Erm." George said, watching his friend's back helplessly. "Yeah. That's, uh, right."

[Frankie Prescotti]

"That's not the question I asked." The woman said, standing to go look over Conrad's shoulder. "Didn't you tell your son there was no food left in the house?"

[George Blythe]

"You can't just eat sugar." George pointed out, reasonably. "And I don't know what there is left." he stood up. "Good point, though, I think I'll take him to get some food." George shot Conrad a glance.

[Frankie Prescotti]

"Well, I suppose that concludes the interview doesn't it?" Frankie asked, to no one in particular, putting her bag over her shoulder. "I suppose I'll let myself out?" She said, edging towards the door.
(out)

[Tobias Blythe]

((Just a little bit later))

Tobias was holed up in his room, planning on reading Hamlet until dinner time. By then his dad would probably be distracted from whatever was making him mad.

[George Blythe]

George pushed the door open and walked in on his son. "What did you think that you were doing?" he blustered.

[Tobias Blythe]

So much for that plan. "I didn't know she wasn't supposed to know," Tobias said defensively. "You were telling her all that other stuff."

[George Blythe]

George rolled his eyes. "The lab is a secret." He looked as though he could be talking to a two year old. "Do you want us to be thrown out of this place?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias glared at him. "If we were, would we go back home?"

[George Blythe]

"For goodness sake!" George exclaimed. "I don't know what to do with you. Don't you like the school?"

[Antón Solucio]

Antón walked in through the front door with a large bag of lemons, cheese, and small flowerpots. As he walked further in, an alarm in one of his pockets went off. Raising his eyebrows, he took out a hunk of cheese and ran upstairs, holding it out in front of him as he cradled the bag with his other arm. He burst into Tobias' room and threw the cheese at the boy.

"Hello." he said, looking between father and son, "What is going on?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"You could send me home!" Tobias threw his book down onto the bed. "It's not like you want me here any--Hey!" He glared at Anton, rubbign his shoulder where the cheese had hit. "What'd you do that for?'

[George Blythe]

George gave his son a stern. "I was teased at school too. You've only been there two days, Tobias. It's a good town." He looked at Anton. "I'm talking to Tobias. I see the cheese has sucessfully flugulated, then. Good."

[Antón Solucio]

Antón fished a small, square device out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons. "The cheese is for you, Young Tobias." he said vaguely. "Well, that wedge is, at least." He glanced at George. "Has Young Tobias experienced difficulties in his new learning environment?"

[Tobias Blythe]

"School isn't the problem!" Tobias shouted.

[George Blythe]

George colored. "Tobias!" he said, sternly. "Will you stop acting so childishly!"

[Antón Solucio]

Antón set his bag on the floor. "Then, Young Tobias, what is the problem? Take your cheese and tell us your tale of woe."

[Tobias Blythe]

"I would if you'd actually listen to me!" Tobias told him. "That's the problem!"

[George Blythe]

"I'm listening, aren't I?" He glanced at Anton. "And, uh, yes, do that."

[Antón Solucio]

"Calm down, Young Tobias!" Antón said, decrescendoing his sentences so that they all ended in a soft tone. "If you wish for willing listeners then you must communicate effectively. Now. Take the cheese. It will make you feel better. Would you like a lemon too? Or a flowerpot?"

[Tobias Blythe]

Tobias gave Anton a sulky glare. "I don't want any of those. I hate this town and I want to go home and I don't know why you bothered dragging me here," he told his father flatly.

[George Blythe]

Something about George's person began to beep ominously. George looked at his son, but his hands twitched, as though he wasn't exactly concentrating. "You, ah, what? Well, I'm sure it'll be fine." he finished lamely. "Just stick it out a bit longer.." and he was gone downstairs to check on his latest experiment.

[Antón Solucio]

Antón took out a lemon, stuck it in a flowerpot, and set it on Tobias' bed. "In case you change your mind." he explained, picking the bag back up. He walked to the doorway. "I think," he said, "that perhaps you will feel differently after you see what makes this town special." He nervously glanced out the door then rushed after George, calling out, "Wait, was that your nebuloxic alarm?!"

[Tobias Blythe]

"Maybe hell'll freeze over," Tobias retorted. He glared at the cheese and the potted lemon, considering throwing them at something.