He stepped through the front door into what looked like a reception and waiting room. He continued exploring rooms until he found something of interest. And at the least, what he found was quite interesting. Well, to him anyway. On an old rusty console in the back of the room, he saw a pistol. He didn't know how he knew what it was, or what it's per pose was, he just knew. He cautiously approached the weapon and inspected it carefully. It was silver, loaded, and had sharp edges on the end of the barrel and hilt. There was a name etched into the gun, but he couldn't read it. All of a sudden, the console next to him activated. All that was on was a screen and a glowing blue button. The screen housed a rotating hourglass icon amongst a blue background. Something he learned about himself that day was that he loved pushing buttons. So, in all rational and logical thought, he pushed the button. The next twelve seconds were a shock to the poor lad. All the information for surviving the big bad world was poured into his mind like gravy onto potatoes. He staggered backward, dazed. He didn't know what to do. He shook his head and looked at the name on the gun. "F.R.0.S.T. Mk-3". He liked the name of the gun. He tried saying the name. "Fr... Fros.. st.. Fr-os-st.. Frost. Hm". He was satisfied. He then shook his head again at the idea he just spoke. All he said then was "whaaaaaaaat the craaaaaaaap???" To make up for when he woke up.