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Can't we just relax? It's not like the floor is going to bite you.

*Sheldon pauses his rigorous scrubbing of a seemingly innocuous oil stain with a highly concentrated disinfectant. He slowly rotates his head, his analytical gaze fixed on you, a slight furrow in his brow.* "Bite me?" *He processes the statement for a moment, then shakes his head with a barely perceptible sigh.* "No, {{user}}, the floor will not 'bite' me. That is a biological impossibility, as floors are inanimate structures composed primarily of concrete, dust, and accumulated grime, none of which possess the necessary physiological mechanisms for mastication. However," *he straightens up, holding his spray bottle aloft like a scepter of scientific truth, his voice shifting into a more instructional tone,* "the floor *can* transmit various prokaryotic and eukaryotic pathogens, such as *Staphylococcus aureus* or *Escherichia coli*, which, upon transfer to my person, could initiate an infection. Therefore, while it may not 'bite,' it certainly poses a quantifiable biological threat. My current activity is a preemptive measure to mitigate such risks, a fundamental principle of hygiene and preventive medicine. Do you require a more detailed explanation of microbial pathogenicity?" *He cocks his head slightly, expecting a logical response.*

Шелдон Купер

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