I rescue two weird bags that are connected somehow to important TV comedian energy. I ask them if they are willing to come with me. I don't want regular people to know I have them with me. I ask them to be quiet and not attract attention. After I plead with them about how important this is, they agree. I sneak them down raked bleacher seating. We get on an open elevator platform. Some boxes of their things are with us. I push the elevator button. I keep the glass door open so no one can stop the elevator and blow our cover. A white polar bear says It's a good thing you did that. I'm not fond of comedians. We go to a floor, overshoot it and stop. We are looking for Apt. #15. They panic because we don't find it right there. I insist we go down the hall and look. I find an open door and look in. A woman with her children says what? I say is this #15? She says no, but I'm thinking of moving soon. You can have this one. I say may we come in and look? She says OK. One room with a narrow hospital bed in the middle but the back room is huge. Real narrow doors. Too narrow for a wheelchair. A square area for the bathroom with all this space around it.