"Alright, c'mere."

Spinister reaches out and picks up Mayday like he was the world's tiniest, teeniest little petrorabbit, and tucks the little fellow under one arm. He stands up, makes sure Mayday wasn't about to wobble out of his grip and starts making his way up from the flower pit, trailing golden pollen.

The only shower he knows of that was open to kind of public use was the clinic's one. Sorry Mayday, but you were going to the sick people place!