Dr. Phineas Waldolf Steel clasps his gloved hands together.
His eyes flash to his nurses, and he nods to them, devoid of emotion.
They straighten themselves, all business now, responding to his non-verbal cue.
"An interesting conundrum, one which merits thought. Much thought - I would add.
A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. My staff stands ready... as do my nurses."
He leans in toward the pensive Dr. Foetcsh.
"Doctor?" he asks. "I am prepared to follow your lead, or lead your follow, depending on your preference."
He bows slightly.
Conspiratorially, in hushed, but unhidden tones, he adds; "But, my good Doctor, I should like to put you at ease with some advice.
I would suggest that this fine Maltese gentelman's threatening air is nothing more than a distraction, a hurdle betwixt the problem and the truth.
I suggest we both ignore this so-called imprisonment. It is of no consequence to us, we have work to do.
A place is a place - provided the equipment isn't falling apart.
Let us endeavor to tease the truth out of the problem it cloaks itself in and drag it screaming and kicking into the light, shall we?."
Building a Utopian Playground - One Smile at a Time