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Within a couple of hours the wound would begin to appear to heal. A small scab will form but toxin has already entered your blood stream. In a few days, depending on your body's natural resistance to toxins, your core temperature will begin to fall. You begin to notice yourself feeling the chills when it should be warm, you put on a couple of wool sweaters to ward off the chills but it seems not to help. Afterall, how could it? You're getting chilled from the inside out. The first phase of infection has begun and your body has by now exhausted its immune system fighting the thermal paste but each death of a white blood cell only serves to strengthen the thermal paste infection. As each cell dies, it is repeatedly assimilated by the thermal paste, becoming part of the deadly agent taking over your body bit by bit, day by day.

Within weeks of infection, you can no longer function as a human being, you are bedridden yet you have an insatiable hunger for toothpaste and axle grease. Several men in suits knock your door, but you are too weak to answer. It was not necessary anyway. Your door is ripped apart by its hinges and they enter, bundling you into a large black duffle bag and driving off in an unmarked black van. As you arrive at the factory, the prison that will hold you the rest of your life, the hood slips off and you notice a large signboard in front of the derelict factory. It is marked "Arctic Cooling".

As you are dragged into the factory, your intestines knot out and you lose control of your bowels leaving a long trail to your cell. You notice that instead of a reassuring, pungent brown stain, you leave behind a trail of gray sludge. It cannot be, you tell yourself. But it is. You have become an unwilling host and producer for the next generation of Arctic Cooling thermal paste.