Transcription

[[Fred is in the hallway]]
Fred thinks: That Trent has gone too far. Lysol in my lunch bag is equivavlent to a death threat in my book, and I'm not going to take this lying down.

[[Trent's shadow is visible near Fred's]]
Fred thinks: Wait a minute... I _know_ that smell. But why would I smell it _here_? Work is not where I'd expect to find?

[[A stream of bleach hits the wall behind Fred]]
<Squirt!>
Fred: BLEACH?!?

[[Trent is holding an Ultra Soaker.]]
Trent: Bwahahaha! If you had a face, mold boy, I'd _love_ to see the look on it!
Fred[[bewildered]]: Gah! Who! Wha! You! I! Ooh!