Doc Ellis and Doktor Bugbladder show their Lullaby League membership cards and proceed to scientifically lull you to into the arms of Morpheus...and what the hell, while you're out they have a few tests they'd like to run on you just for shits 'n' giggles. The good (?) Doktors pour their "special" genetically altered honey down your earholes while they discuss the whys and wherefores of stupidly vulnerable organisms who are compelled to regularly fall unconscious for hours at a time. But sleep is not solely about recharging your spent batteries...it's about getting the drop on yourself in a grudgematch from the darkside when the synapses click and your sleeping brain opens up and spews Dobbs-knows-what into your soul. Every sleep cycle is a crapshoot that carries the horrific uncertainty potential of dreams and nightmares. You either find yourself standing there in your underwear in your old 8th-grade school hallway and can't find your class...or else you're sucked into an infinite hell of psyche-searing, soul-consuming, brain-blistering madness. And you're in your underwear. Or even worse--you finally get through an unending shift at werk and go to punch out, and--hey, that's funny...the timeclock's ding sounds just like an alarm clock.