(Untitled)

[dalekity]

Dalek hasn't been seen in the bar, for some time.

Possibly this is because it has been devising new and wonderful methods to help patrons through their problems? But probably not.

Still, it's downstairs now, by a booth, with a sign.

FREE COUNSELLING. FREE. FREE. FREE.

It's free.

[And the mun must now reluctantly ask for no new threads, for

Comments

[puckishly]

Puck appears, eyes wide and curious.

"Counseling?"

[dalekity]

"Yes. I am very good at it."

[puckishly]

"Really."

Puck has on his very most diplomatic expression.

"Are there many here who seek it from you, then?"

[dalekity]

"Yes."

This is ... true, sort of. Lots of people come and talk to it.

[puckishly]

"Hm!"

Puck looks intrigued. He flops down cross-legged on the floor, in possible violation of Dalek's personal space.

"In which case, I do wish I sought counsel of any kind-- my life is rather tragically devoid of matters warranting serious deliberation."

[dalekity]

"Are you sure?"

[puckishly]

"Quite sure," Puck says with a grin. "Though if you like, I might fabricate some. Merely to sharpen your skills, you understand."

[dalekity]

"Go ahead."

[puckishly]

Puck considers for a long moment, dropping back to lie on the floor. Apparently, staring up at the rafters helps him to think.

Then, abruptly, he sits up again. "Aha!"

"I've the thing exactly," he says, sounding quite pleased. "As it turns out, my lovely wife has lost her memory and believes herself to be enamored of a possessed catfish. Name of 'Dean,' I believe. What shall I do to salvage our marriage?"

[dalekity]

Well.

That's a tough one.

"A lobotomy." It suggested this in another thread, too. Evidently, it's been researching such things.

[puckishly]

Puck blinks.

"A what?"

[dalekity]

"It is a variety. On the brain."

[puckishly]

"A ... variety."

Puck is so lost.

"I see. And is that for my wife, or the catfish?"

[dalekity]

The mun has absolutely no idea how 'of surgery' managed to get deleted there.

We will presume Dalek's talky-thing is on the fritz.

"A variety of surgery," Grimly. "Your wife."

[puckishly]

"Ah!" Puck exclaims, much enlightened. "A variety of surgery. On the brain, even."

He wrinkles up his nose.

"I don't think I should much like to meddle with that aspect of her own sweet self. What are the effects of this surgery?"

[dalekity]

"It depends on what you cut out, really."

Nobody ever said Dalek studied it in depth.