[ as Innes is not a baked goods kind of guy, he's developing only mild symptoms. After all, it was just one sample.

He's only mildly turning into a psyduck. There's a small black plume on his head and he's holding his head gingerly with his webbed fingers. ]

This headache won't go away! And these fingers... Gods, how am I supposed to do anything with these hands?

Whoever's responsible for this, I'll make sure you'll have a limp for the rest of your life. [ even if he has to kick you in the shin to do it. ] What is with this place? Is it even considered a school anymore or just some twisted sorcerer's playground?