Jenna, who's come down with reflexive AGS.

"Oh, fuck me."

Jenna's eyes scanned the letter again, hoping for a but or not she had missed. No luck. She had AGS.

Jenna collapsed back onto her couch. She turned off the TV, which was blasting a crimson static pattern into the wall. She had AGS.

She couldn't read books, she realized. Or watch TV. God, her life was over! She began biting her thumbnail, a habit she'd overcome years ago. A billboard could have her joining a cult.

Shit, she could be inducted into a cult! Jenna was overwhelmed. She had to figure this out. Grabbing a pen and paper, She wrote down a sentence.

"Jenna Lesten is six feet tall."

She frowned. She had meant to write something false. She stood exactly six feet tall, despite measurements to the contrary. She sighed and put the pen down.

Shit, what if something already happened? What if she only thinks she's here in this apartment because some pervert told her she was-

Jenna was startled out of her musings by a pounding on the door. It was her neighbor Ken, who was smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, Jenna. I hate to bother you-"

She cringed, expecting the AGS to kick in. It never did, though. She relaxed as she realized he was right. "You hate to bother me."

He looked puzzled for a second, then horrified. "I- Oh my God. I'm so sorry. What the fuck is wrong with me? I hate bothering you."

Jenna nodded. It was true. He'd always hated to bother her. As she closed the door behind her, she realized how close that was. If he hadn't hated bothering her so much he could have done real damage.

She needed help. She needed a friend.