[Encountering the human Fern for the first time]
(Very off bed-side manners)
"Oh, of course, forgive my rudeness. I'm Doctor H.M. Phage, T.E, chief physician, radiologist, surgeon, pathologist, pathogen, immunologist, urologist, gynaecologist, reverse gynaecologist, taxidermist, dentist, forensic entomologist, necrobiological reconstructionist, herbalist, fashionist and twin-core husk intersector licensed in all chromatic, material and hypothetical perception zones.
I can assure you, sir, your dog is in excellent hands!"
[Fern has just rudely ripped a painting off of a wall]
"Oh, dear. You'd better calm down there, gramps, we don't want you blowing your booklungs all over your freshly mucused gown, do we? Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back with our head transfusionator. We'll have those hearts pumping healthy yellow bile again in no time!"
[Currently searching for the escaped Fern while chatting with an unknown second party]
"Aw, STINKBEANS! It evaporated already!"
"...What? Of COURSE they do. They always do!"
"...Oh, fine, you can look, but don't expect to find much more than smelly residue and a half-eaten wallet, like the last one."
"...You mean the cat? It was a cat, wasn't it?"
"Oh. Well, whatever, it's probably stable for now. Just power up the unexistalizer when you get the chance, in case the damn thing starts leaking onto anything important."
