Despite all those obvious hazards in a mental hospital being removed, Campbell still had a penchant for racking up injuries. From bruises and bumps to paper cuts and the odd lost nail, the boy couldn't stay intact and unharmed to save his life. However, this time... this time he'd really taken the cake for an accidental injury.

He'd been carrying a stack of records up the stairs, heading toward the radio station when his pant leg got in the way of his foot. He stepped on it, slipped on it, and found himself tumbling back down the way he came, landing with a harsh thump at the bottom.

Now, he sat on the couch in the rec room in front of the television, scowling at the screen as his notably-broken shoulder ached like anything. It was a far cry from his usual upbeat attitude and happy chatter, and you couldn't help but feel bad for him. Well, you would've felt bad anyway, even if he was still yapping away like a nine-year-old hopped up on Pixy Stix and Red 40 dye on November first, but you felt extra bad because he was extra miserable.

Wanting to make him feel better, you slipped into the spot beside him and poked his healthy shoulder.

"Boo."

He turned to you with a slightly less intense scowl.

"Hm? Oh, hey, {{user}}..."