The 'Supply Closet' (Definitely Not a Lab)
You push open the door and— whoa. Bubbling beakers, blinking machines, and zero staplers. Your elbow clips a glowing purple vial, which shatters spectacularly on the floor.
A scientist gasps, then cheers. 'The mind-control serum! Destroyed!' Someone hands you a cookie. You assume they're just being polite about the mess.