Close-up of Q's hands as he helps Greg up. One is gripping Greg's gloved hand, the other is on Greg's forearm with a small cloth preventing skin-to-skin contact.

"Got it? I'm not touching any skin, right?"
"Yeah I'm good man, thank you-- ow, fuck..."

Greg's apartment. Greg sits on a beaten-up couch, talking on a corded phone. His right ankle and foot are bandaged and propped up on the messy coffee table. One of his roommates is on the floor, trying to reach something under the table. Beside her a cat licks its butthole. There's a stuffed rabbit and a throw pillow on the couch and posters of a mermaid and a skull on the wall. Another roommate sits on the arm of the couch taking a selfie with an instant camera. Still another roommate is in the kitchen looking in the freezer while another cat is on the counter near someone's coffee mug. Greg is scratching his forearm. He's no longer wearing his rubber gloves.

"You can cover for me tonight? Thanks a lot. Yeah, I got the contact rash too..."

Close-up on Greg scratching the rash on his forearm.

"Q practically carried me out of the woods and didn't touch my skin the whole time, and then the nurse at the clinic IMMEDIATELY put her bare hand on my arm putting on a blood pressure cuff. Nah, I've got some calamine, thanks though."

The roommate who was on the floor is now perched on a cushion next to Greg, who pulls away from her with an annoyed expression. She's holding the stuffed rabbit and her hand is way too close to Greg's shoulder for his liking.

"Haha, you're welcome for the extra shift! Hey, I don't have to worry about that much longer... I'm going for my Postal Corps entrance exam tomorrow!"