You're ushered into a small stall, and inside is a white-walled clinic with an almost overpowering stench of disinfectant. In the corner, there is a patient's cot, as well as medical cabinets filled with medicines and medical tools. On the desk, there are team-colored index cards with the phrase Patient Name on each of them; each card has the name of every currently-living player as of this night. There is no chair to sit upon, but you may sit on the patient's cot.

You have a feeling that you are supposed to choose one of these cards, or choose the white card, which has only this sentence scribbled onto it: Take a Break. Upon selecting a card, you will find yourself exhausted—but with the sense of satisfaction, as if you've done your duty, and promptly fall asleep on the patient's cot.

You may also inspect the medical cabinets, however you'll find them unopenable; the glass is unbreakable, as well. It seems their only purpose for being in the room is to be decorative eye candy.