[Ladies and gentlemen... Professor Charles Xavier. In a wheelchair. Courtesy of his little fall on the stairs of the clothier's tower. He does not look amused.]
Panicking over this situation will get us absolutely nowhere. You all must calm down, and remember one very important fact.
These are, quite simply, squash. Pumpkins. Granted, I
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Hi, I'm a giant robot from a metal planet with other giant robots. Can we move past that now?
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But yes, plenty of time for gawking after the crisis. You were saying?
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But hey. Logic. I like that. Good luck getting people to listen to it.
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Hopefully there will be some rational minds among the people here.
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Then again, considering the circumstances...
As for rational minds, one can only hope.
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We have one, at least. I like to think my wits are still in my own possession.
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They're only squash, after all.
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Pumpkins don't make you hear voices. I'm not saying we should panic, but we shouldn't relax, either.
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[As he'd found out when he'd removed his brother's pumpkin, and why he currently can't bring himself to remove any of the ones he knows, despite what they're saying. But then he's distracted, noticing the wheelchair.]
Are you okay?
[His voice sounds a bit different, slightly distorted, courtesy of the fact that he's in his ice form at the moment.]
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[He catches that distortion. And it makes him raise an eyebrow.]
Yes? What do you -- oh. Well. A minor mishap on the stairs. It's quite all right. Or it will be.
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[To put it mildly.]
Oh. Good, that's - I'm glad you're okay.
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... Are you all right, Bobby? You seem fairly more distressed than I'd expected.
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