Q. I am pursing a sponsored higher education programme in Delhi. I daily take food wrapped in an aluminium foil. I want to know whether this will have any adverse affects on my health?
A. Absolutely not, unless you eat the aluminium foil. Eating foil is an unusual form of pica and this may require psychiatric management as well as medical or surgical methods to retrieve the foil for more appropriate ecologic management of this non-biodegradable product.
- - - - - - -
“Oh god.. my head..”
The deafening throbbing inside Gregory's head only got worse as he pulled himself up off the couch. Dim rays of sun were beginning to filter through the blind of the cheap hotel room, the empty beer bottles scattered across the floor glistening in the light. These surroundings were unfamiliar to Gregory as he stumbled across the room and began pulling on his pants, the previous night nothing but a painful blur.
The low sunlight stung his eyes as he stepped out into the hotel carpark. His Honda Acura was parked opposite the hotel office, a deep scrape in the side tainting it's crimson paint. Still no memory returned to Gregory's clouded mind as he climbed into the driver's seat. A folded sheet of paper on the passenger's seat caught his eye.
“What..” On opening it he found an address scribbled across it in someone else's handwriting. Still nothing returned to him.
Traveling the smooth road calmed Gregory's mind as he soon found himself in more familiar settings. As his thoughts wandered his hands began steering him towards the house of his girlfriend Marie. It may not have been an ideal time for a vist, but there was nowhere else he could think so go in this situation. However, another car was already parked in her driveway. This was strange, as she lived alone and it was still too early for someone to be over. Unless, of course, if someone had stayed the night..
He shook the thought from his head and made his way towards the door.
“Bzzzz...” The sharp tone of the doorbell still hurt Gregory's head.
“...Hello?” He didn't know the woman who answered the door, but it wasn't Marie.
“Hello, is Mari-”
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” She yelled before he could finish his question,
“I was looki-”
“I'm calling the fucking police.” There was something about her that reminded his of Marie as she slammed the door in his face. Dazzed and confused he got back in his car.
Once again the piece of paper on the passenger's seat caught his intrest. “62 CampGreenwood drive..” He mumbled to himself. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all he had.
The sky was growing dark as Gregory pulled up the forest drive. A sign caught in the car's headlights, 'CampWood Digital Remastering Center'.
Inside he was greeted by an information deck in an otherwise blek, white room. However, no one seemed to be around so he decided to look around the room. On the counter was a pile of informative looking pamphlets, titled 'Digital Face Remastering; What It Can Do For You'.
“..Can I help you?” The voice sounded for behind the desk. A woman in pale green scrubs not stood there, gazing eagerly at him.
“I was just..”
“Oh, Doctor Greenwood!” She gasped in recognition, “We've been waiting for you. The client's being prepped for surgery in the operating room. Please, come through now so we can start the procedure.” and she disappeared through a door and down a corridor. Reluctantly, he followed.
Before he knew it Gregory found himself standing in front of a touch screen, the image of a woman's face displayed in the center of what appeared to be an image editing program.
“The picture of what the results should look like are on the table,” The woman explained,”I'll be back when you're done.” and she left before he could question further.
“I don't know what's going on, but.. this can't be too hard, can it?” Gregory mumbled to himself as he picked-up the stylus.
Half an hour later he returned it to its holder, the face on the screen a mirror image of the picture on the table. He found the door to the room unlocked and wandered out into the corridor.
He tried to find his way back to the entrance through the deserted corridors, but it was hard to find his way back when everything looked the same. When he eventually reached the exit he found himself in the middle of some sort on commotion.
“Tell us where he is.” ordered a strong male voice.
“No, you can't take him!” the woman from before franticly insisted,
“Please, he's dangerous. We need to find him fast.”
“You don't understand!”
Gregory stepped into the room.
“There he is! Get him!”
THUD. He hit the ground hard as several men jumped in him.
“Gregory Greenwood, you're under arrest.”
“What? What for!?”
“You know what. You stabbed forty two woman's faces to ribbons.”
“Better make that forty three, chief. Just found another one out the back.”
Suddenly, it all came back to Gregory. The woman. The faces. The stabbing.
He fell to his knees.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO!!!”
And suddenly, everything went black.
The deafening throbbing inside Gregory's head only got worse as he pulled himself up off the couch. Dim rays of sun were beginning to filter through the blind of the cheap hotel room, the empty beer bottles scattered across the floor glistening in the light. These surroundings were unfamiliar to Gregory as he stumbled across the room and began pulling on his pants, the previous night nothing but a painful blur.
The low sunlight stung his eyes as he stepped out into the hotel carpark. His Honda Acura was parked opposite the hotel office, a deep scrape in the side tainting it's crimson paint. Still no memory returned to Gregory's clouded mind as he climbed into the driver's seat. A folded sheet of paper on the passenger's seat caught his eye.
“What..” On opening it he found an address scribbled across it in someone else's handwriting. Still nothing returned to him.
Traveling the smooth road calmed Gregory's mind as he soon found himself in more familiar settings. As his thoughts wandered his hands began steering him towards the house of his girlfriend Marie. It may not have been an ideal time for a vist, but there was nowhere else he could think so go in this situation. However, another car was already parked in her driveway. This was strange, as she lived alone and it was still too early for someone to be over. Unless, of course, if someone had stayed the night..
He shook the thought from his head and made his way towards the door.
“Bzzzz...” The sharp tone of the doorbell still hurt Gregory's head.
“...Hello?” He didn't know the woman who answered the door, but it wasn't Marie.
“Hello, is Mari-”
“What the fuck are you doing here!?” She yelled before he could finish his question,
“I was looki-”
“I'm calling the fucking police.” There was something about her that reminded his of Marie as she slammed the door in his face. Dazzed and confused he got back in his car.
Once again the piece of paper on the passenger's seat caught his intrest. “62 CampGreenwood drive..” He mumbled to himself. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all he had.
The sky was growing dark as Gregory pulled up the forest drive. A sign caught in the car's headlights, 'CampWood Digital Remastering Center'.
Inside he was greeted by an information deck in an otherwise blek, white room. However, no one seemed to be around so he decided to look around the room. On the counter was a pile of informative looking pamphlets, titled 'Digital Face Remastering; What It Can Do For You'.
“..Can I help you?” The voice sounded for behind the desk. A woman in pale green scrubs not stood there, gazing eagerly at him.
“I was just..”
“Oh, Doctor Greenwood!” She gasped in recognition, “We've been waiting for you. The client's being prepped for surgery in the operating room. Please, come through now so we can start the procedure.” and she disappeared through a door and down a corridor. Reluctantly, he followed.
Before he knew it Gregory found himself standing in front of a touch screen, the image of a woman's face displayed in the center of what appeared to be an image editing program.
“The picture of what the results should look like are on the table,” The woman explained,”I'll be back when you're done.” and she left before he could question further.
“I don't know what's going on, but.. this can't be too hard, can it?” Gregory mumbled to himself as he picked-up the stylus.
Half an hour later he returned it to its holder, the face on the screen a mirror image of the picture on the table. He found the door to the room unlocked and wandered out into the corridor.
He tried to find his way back to the entrance through the deserted corridors, but it was hard to find his way back when everything looked the same. When he eventually reached the exit he found himself in the middle of some sort on commotion.
“Tell us where he is.” ordered a strong male voice.
“No, you can't take him!” the woman from before franticly insisted,
“Please, he's dangerous. We need to find him fast.”
“You don't understand!”
Gregory stepped into the room.
“There he is! Get him!”
THUD. He hit the ground hard as several men jumped in him.
“Gregory Greenwood, you're under arrest.”
“What? What for!?”
“You know what. You stabbed forty two woman's faces to ribbons.”
“Better make that forty three, chief. Just found another one out the back.”
Suddenly, it all came back to Gregory. The woman. The faces. The stabbing.
He fell to his knees.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO!!!”
And suddenly, everything went black.
