<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Jim Firewood - Living Room</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Jim sighed. It really seemed like this would be a very long day. He should probably check his medical bag and make sure he had everything in order. It was pretty likely that he would need to use it throughout the day. Shaking his head, Jim stood up and went to the piano. Closing it, he placed the bag on it and carefully emptied it.<br/><br/>Jim was staring at his materials, rubbing his nose as he always did when stressed, when Jack walked into the living room. Jim looked his brother up and down. He didn't seem to have lost much weight, which was good. Jenny was probably forcing him to eat more often.<br/><br/>Jack's remark made Jim shake his head and smirk. Well, at least they were not involved in a shouting match. "I don't know. I think I prefer communist China. Won't you join me?". Jack's laughter, though, made Jim stop what he was doing and walk up to his brother. Leaning over, Jim gripped Jack's shoulder and shook him softly. "Jack!", he called, concern clear on his dark eyes.<br/><br/>Jim was about to say something, when he looked up and wrinkled his nose. "Jack!", he called again, this time with other concerns than his brother. "Something is wrong."</div>