Max is probably an Earth Beagle, but I'm monitoring him closely. I suspect him of being evil. He's too good at giving the stinkeye. If he shows any sign of having talons/wings/ill intent, do tell me immediately.
Jack found him in a Bird's Eye Veg box on a street in Cardiff. He thinks Max is an adorable orphaned urchin. They've watched Newsies together eight or nine times. He is probably one of the most well-educated beagles (in terms of film) ever to exist.
Theresa IS an adorable orphaned street urchin. Look at how his eyes say "5 cents, guv!"
It's good to have a suspicious secretary running things for me but you're wrong on this one, Ianto.
You may have been right about: The poison in the royal chalice from Plexon 4, the grossness of combining orange and tomato juice, telling Gwen about Freak Island... But on this dog-related issue you are so wrong!
I think YOU better fill her in since you're so good at telling people about FREAK ISLAND even though I stood in the hallway and gestured angrily about not telling people about FREAK ISLAND.
And it's not a bunker any more. Bunkers don't have cheery signs on the doors of the cells.
Fine, fine. The Rift sometimes takes people out of Cardiff and when it sends them back to us (or sometimes an alien) they're usually pretty traumatised and sometimes they scream or eat curtains. So we keep them on an island where they can live out their days without their families having to worry about constantly keeping them away from the playing pieces on the Monopoly board.
Gwen sort of found out by accident. Now she runs the basket-weaving program and pizza night.
Dear God. Those poor people! Are they receiving care? Therapy? What kind of ...
You're taking me to see them, Ianto. Wednesday all right for you? Barring apocalypse, my day is free. I can't believe you didn't tell me about this already!
They've looked into the dark hearts of dying suns, Martha, and seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, that kind of thing. Most of them are pretty far beyond "tell me about your mother" style help, but they do get care. And marshmallow peeps, this time of year.
Wednesday night is fine, that's pizza night! Gwen can come too.
Jack, the only "freak" around here is the weirdo who smells of sheep.
Ianto, I'm not talking about "tell me about your mother." I can probably at least stabilise one or two of them with medication, and they may have been exposed to radiation, and has anyone checked them for internal trauma? Tumours? Infections?
God, how have you people got along without me for this long?
We have them checked over when they get to the island, but most of them don't have issues with things like tumours so much as "screaming for 22 hours straight" or "moving wires under their skin" and the like. Some are sedative-resistant.
Oh my God -- is Max-Theresa really an Earth puppy? Are you sure? Where did you find him? He could be here to harvest our organs!
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Jack found him in a Bird's Eye Veg box on a street in Cardiff. He thinks Max is an adorable orphaned urchin. They've watched Newsies together eight or nine times. He is probably one of the most well-educated beagles (in terms of film) ever to exist.
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It's good to have a suspicious secretary running things for me but you're wrong on this one, Ianto.
You may have been right about: The poison in the royal chalice from Plexon 4, the grossness of combining orange and tomato juice, telling Gwen about Freak Island... But on this dog-related issue you are so wrong!
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What's Freak Island? Is it an amusement pier?
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Not exactly.
...Jack, you want me to handle this, or shall we just traumatise her like we did with Gwen? Your call, Captain "Keep Them In An Underground Bunker".
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And it's not a bunker any more. Bunkers don't have cheery signs on the doors of the cells.
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Gwen sort of found out by accident. Now she runs the basket-weaving program and pizza night.
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You're taking me to see them, Ianto. Wednesday all right for you? Barring apocalypse, my day is free. I can't believe you didn't tell me about this already!
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Wednesday night is fine, that's pizza night! Gwen can come too.
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Ianto, I'm not talking about "tell me about your mother." I can probably at least stabilise one or two of them with medication, and they may have been exposed to radiation, and has anyone checked them for internal trauma? Tumours? Infections?
God, how have you people got along without me for this long?
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Hence, "freaks".
They do love pepperoni, though.
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...pepperoni sounds lovely.
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For your own sanity, you know.
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I'm putting my foot down on that one. NO, Martha!
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