Dr. Youngbeak looked over the new report she had been sent last week. It was over the supervillain, Liquidator, or Bud Fludd, as he was known before his mutation. The expert team of doctors at Duckham Asylum were utterly puzzled by Bud's condition. He didn't require food to eat or even air to breathe. It was unclear how his mind was able to work when all he consisted of was water. Bud had not been able to give them much information about his condition. Dr. Youngbeak did not believe he was deliberately hiding such information from them. He had been a businessman before his mutation, not a scientist. It was no surprise he had no idea what drove the inner workings of his liquid body.
Dr. Youngbeak turned the tape recorder on, "Patient interview number one: Bud Fludd also known as The Liquidator. Bud Fludd is a member of the Fearsome Five and is considered a very dangerous individual with insatiable greed. This is all I know. I am going into this interview completely blind. I suppose I'll just have to improvise and start off with the usual questions. I am not yet sure how to devise a treatment plan for him or what his possible prognosis is."
She got out her clipboard and pen and waited. There was a knock at the door.
"Please, come in."
A single guard came in with a large jar full of water. He set it down on the table.
"I'll be right outside, Dr. Youngbeak. Call if there's any trouble."
Dr. Youngbeak looked into the jar.
"Bud, are you in there?" She thought she saw a pair of dark blue eyes staring at her.
"Bud?" A gurgling voice said, sounding put off, "Bud? Are you not keeping up with the times? Have you been living under a rock all your days? Then, you needn't worry about your outdated state of mind any longer! The Liquidator is here to keep you informed about the name exchange program! Bud Fludd is old news!"
The eyes seemed more present now, along with the hint of a grin within the water. Dr. Youngbeak took notice of the expression in the water.
"Ah, there you are. I'm Dr. Youngbeak. How are you doing today, Bud?" she asked.
The expression in the jar of water seemed irritated for a few seconds, but eventually, a grin became present on his face. "I am doing fabulous, doctor! You can jar me, you can prod me, but you can't take away my spirit!" he said, swishing around in the jar.
"Well, that's a very good attitude to have," Dr. Youngbeak smiled at him and jotted down some notes. In the back of her mind, she realized Liquidator was going to be a more difficult patient to diagnose and treat than she had originally thought.
"I've always been a glass-is-half-full kind of guy. You will be amazed at what I can put up with!" Liquidator started to amuse himself by creating bubbles in his jar.
"I'm sure I will be. The other doctors here at Duckham Asylum really don't know what to make of you." Dr. Youngbeak said, glancing down at the report again.
Liquidator stopped making bubbles and turned his full attention to addressing Dr. Youngbeak. "That lab came fully equipped with more gizmos and doodads than anything I have ever seen. All of its features were no match for discovering the secret of the one and only Liquidator!" he exclaimed.
Dr. Youngbeak was surprised at how well he was taking his stay in Duckham Asylum. Most patients expressed sadness, discomfort, or anger at being locked up, but Liquidator acted as if he wasn't affected at all.
"Bud, do you know why you're here?" she asked.
"Could it be a) robbing St. Canard blind, b) flooding half the city, or c) the result of interference by a certain meddling, costumed duck? The correct answer is… All of the above!" Liquidator swished in his jar wildly, yet his jar didn't move.
"That is right," Dr. Youngbeak said, noting that Liquidator's manner of speaking seemed oddly commercial-like. "Why do you speak like that?"
"Commercials are the most persuasive advertising that there is! The Liquidator prides himself in being able to make that sale… in everything he does!"
"I see." She wrote down some notes and wondered if Liquidator might be obsessive-compulsive, in that he appeared to be compelled to speak that way, as if he couldn't help himself. She tapped her pen on her clipboard and thought. "You don't sound very sorry about what you've done to be put in here."
"And why should I be? The Liquidator gets everything he wants… fame and fortune all for the low, low price of a little lock-up time and some mild discomfort, courtesy of Darkwing Duck." Liquidator's eyes narrowed a bit at mentioning Darkwing, "Oooh, one of these days Darkwing's lifetime guarantee will be null and void!"
Dr. Youngbeak noticed her patient was getting agitated and tried to take the discussion in a new direction. "As far as your crime record is concerned, Bud, you haven't committed murder before. There are several counts of attempted murder on Darkwing Duck. But this is more than what could be said for other members of the Fearsome Five. I think it is a very good thing that you have held life in such high regard. I really don't think you should change that for anything," Dr. Youngbeak said, taking down a few notes.
Liquidator's facial features formed an expression of surprise before becoming thoughtful.
"You are… right," he said, "I'm not a killer. I like giving lifetime guarantees, doctor."
"You should be proud of yourself," Dr. Youngbeak said, feeling encouraged by the Liquidator's admission to a "no-killing" policy.
"It's not entirely honorable. Less people in the world means less customers for the Liquidator, which means less people to buy my products. Besides, four out of five supervillains would disagree with you," Liquidator said, smiling.
Dr. Youngbeak frowned for a moment, noting that her watch indicated that time was up.
"It looks like we're out of time for today, Bud. I'll see you again, next week," she said, opening the door to let the guard in.
"The Liquidator cannot make that a 100% guarantee." The jar of water let out a quiet, bubbly chuckle.
"Patient interview number two: Bud Fludd also known as the Liquidator. So much has happened in the time since I last saw Bud that I scarcely know where to begin. The guards have reported a few nights of Bud screaming out for someone to help him. It would seem that even in his unusual, liquid body, he still requires sleep and is able to undergo some form of REM. Our doctors here at Duckham Asylum have yet to figure out how or why. They have made little head-way into figuring out how Bud's body works. In any case, it was during another test in the laboratory that Bud attempted an escape. Luckily, the guards managed to freeze him, crush him, and trap him back into the jar." Dr. Youngbeak paused for a moment, wondering if the Liquidator was capable of feeling pain in his liquid body. She was unhappy about that thought.
She sighed, "Today, I will talk to Bud about his nightmares and about his attempted escape. I still have yet to figure out a suitable treatment plan for him. The doctors are hesitant about administering conventional medicine to Bud as they have no idea how it will affect him. This is a frustrating obstacle, but it cannot be helped."
The guard knocked at the door, then came in with the jar containing the Liquidator. He set the jar on the table, nodded to Dr. Youngbeak, then left to stand outside the door. The Liquidator's face was visible within the jar. He looked annoyed.
"Hello, Bud. You don't look like you're doing so well, today," Dr. Youngbeak commented.
"My get-out-of-jail-free card did not work as advertised," Liquidator said with a gurgling sort of huff.
"Yes. I heard that you tried to escape. I know that being locked up isn't a picnic, but you're unwell, Bud. You have caused the city of St. Canard a lot of trouble, and you need to realize that there are consequences to that." Dr. Youngbeak watched the face in the jar scowl at her.
"I know there are consequences. The Liquidator wasn't born yesterday," Liquidator said, starting to appear cheerful again, "But supervillains everywhere agree, escaping the consequences is much better than having to deal with them."
"I'm sure many ordinary criminals feel the same way."
Liquidator's body seemed to almost boil in the jar. He looked intimidating, despite being trapped in the jar.
"Ordinary? Can ordinary criminals flood a portion of the city? Can ordinary criminals give the masked moron a run for his money?" After a moment, Liquidator stopped boiling and looked frustrated, "I want out of this damn jar! Ordinary criminals don't have to put up with this nonsense! This is undignified for a high-quality super villain such as myself!"
"If we weren't afraid you'd flee, we'd try putting you in more comfortable accommodations. I am really sorry that you have to be stuck in such a confinement," Dr. Youngbeak began, but the Liquidator scoffed.
"Research suggests that if the good doctor was really sorry, she would let the Liquidator out of here."
Dr. Youngbeak finished taking some notes, giving him a steady look, "No. Letting you out would only hurt you, not to mention everyone else in St. Canard."
"Oh, and what makes you so sure that, as far as things go regarding me personally, being in here is better than being out there?" Liquidator said, raising a watery brow.
"You are not likely to change your criminal tendencies without treatment. A criminal lifestyle, by nature, leads to a path of self-destruction. A criminal is compelled to be greedy and self-serving, which often isolates the people around them. This results in living a lonely life. Greed will not lead to happiness. You might get what you want, and then find yourself wanting more and more. Soon, you'll find that no matter what you get, you'll never be happy." Dr. Youngbeak folded her hands on the table and watched the Liquidator. He seemed to be considering her words.
I don't really buy into that money can't buy you happiness thing," Liquidator said after a moment of thought, "But… you might be right about the isolating people part."
For a brief second, Dr. Youngbeak could've sworn she saw sadness in his watery face, but it was gone as quickly as she had noticed it. "You're taking a step in the right direction, Bud."
"I'm still not happy about being here," Liquidator grumbled, "This jar seems to be getting smaller each time I get put in it."
Dr. Youngbeak tried to hide her alarm. If the jar really seemed like it was getting smaller to Liquidator, it was possible that he was starting to develop claustrophobia. It would not be beneficial to the patient to encourage a phobia. She thought about it and spoke carefully.
"I will speak to the Duckham Asylum board members and see if we can't find a larger container to put you in. I cannot make any promises. It will be especially difficult, too, given how much of an escape risk you are."
Her response seemed to appease Liquidator, and he was back to grinning a friendly, salesman-like grin.
"Now, there's an offer I can't refuse. No guarantee necessary, doctor. I appreciate your cooperation!"
"And I appreciate yours, Bud. I hope you continue to be cooperative. Now, then, I want to talk to you about your nightmares," Dr. Youngbeak said, pen ready.
"The Liquidator suspects you were supplied misinformation. I have no nightmares! Just pleasant dreams of sandy white beaches, babes, and lots and lots of cold, hard cash!" He looked as if he was picturing the scene he described at that moment.
So much for cooperation, Dr. Youngbeak thought and sighed.
"The guards reported that you were screaming out for help in your sleep. Either you are hiding something from me or you truly do not remember your nightmares." She spoke in an authoritative tone, and her eyes studied Liquidator's expression for any sign of slipping or twitching.
The watery salesman's expression disappeared in the water, "Inquiring minds wish to know the time."
"Your session isn't over yet, Bud," Dr. Youngbeak said, her tone softening a little in an attempt to make him feel more comfortable.
"Recurring nightmares do come included with the Liquidator," the water canine said, "Most of them are about my initial transformation from ordinary businessman to watery super villain. It was… a very painful process."
He went silent.
Dr. Youngbeak decided it would be best not to press the issue at that time. She jotted down a reminder to bring up the subject again later.
"Let's talk about how you treat your customers," she said.
A wide grin appeared in the water, then, "The Liquidator prides himself in quality customer service!"
Once again, Dr. Youngbeak struggled to keep her feelings neutral in the discussion. "I think your customers might disagree."
Liquidator rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Well, doctor, my deals are to die for, and my merchandise is top-quality. What more could my customers want?"
"How about not being threatened? Have your business ethics ever been fair, Bud?" Dr. Youngbeak asked, taking a look through her report.
"All's fair in love and war, and the corporate world is definitely a war zone!" Liquidator said, looking amused.
"I don't think it's quite like that," Dr. Youngbeak said, before glancing at her watch, "And it looks like our session is over with for today. I'll see you next week."
"A note to all the viewers at home: Doctors do not come included with business sense OR the ability to accurately predict the future!" Bubbly laughter echoed in the room and in the halls, as the jar was carried off.
"Patient interview number ten: Bud Fludd also known as the Liquidator. Since Darkwing Duck brought him in after his escape two weeks ago, Bud has been in a bad mood. He taunts the guards and other staff at Duckham Asylum. I'm not sure how we can stop him from doing this. Opening his jar has been deemed as too risky to be condoned anymore. No further laboratory tests will be performed on him. He is to remain in his jar… indefinitely." Dr. Youngbeak narrowed her eyes, remembering how angry she had been when the board members made that decision, "I have been trying to get this decision overturned because it is inhumane. Bud Fludd is not just a puddle of water; he is a person. And he has been showing signs of claustrophobia. His mental state will worsen, and he could possibly become more dangerous, if he is not allowed out of that jar every once in a while or at least provided with more spacious accommodations."
The guard came in with the jar and set it on the table. Dr. Youngbeak blinked and took a good look at the guard. He was not the same as the one that usually brought the Liquidator in.
"Where is Mr. Piggle?" she asked, concerned.
"He's in the hospital. Critical injuries. We're not sure he'll pull through," the new guard said.
Liquidator looked ever so cheerful, "The Liquidator offers his condolences. He was fun while he lasted."
Dr. Youngbeak shot him a stern look, "He's not dead, yet, Bud." She looked back to the guard, "What happened?"
"I'll give you two guesses," the guard said.
"Quackerjack and Megavolt?" Dr. Youngbeak's eyes widened in alarm, "They've escaped?"
"They did yesterday. Weren't you here?" the guard asked.
"No. I wasn't. It was my day off. How could this have happened? They shouldn't have been able to break out at the same time."
"Megavolt and Quackerjack: they will shock and amaze!" the Liquidator said. His bubbly voice and advertisement jargon was rattling Dr. Youngbeak's nerves further. She took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten.
"Well, they were in the rec room…" the guard began but visibly cringed when the small duck woman's eyes narrowed.
"They were in the rec room…together? I have specifically ordered that Megavolt and Quackerjack never, never be in the same room together. They have separate meal times and separate rec room times. Who messed this up?"
"Well, I don't…" the guard quickly shut his mouth again.
Dr. Youngbeak turned her gaze the jar, "I'm sorry, Bud, but our appointment is canceled. We will meet next week at this time."
"No apologies necessary; the Liquidator does accept refunds as long as money isn't involved!" The water in the jar bobbed.
Dr. Youngbeak left Liquidator with the guard and stormed out of the room.
"Patient interview number twelve: Bud Fludd also known as the Liquidator. The board remains stubborn about their decision. Bud has been increasingly edgy, lately. He speaks faster; his movement is constant. I fear he is getting close to a breaking point. I wish I could prescribe him something to alleviate his anxiety. I can only hope talk therapy will help calm him down." Dr. Youngbeak set the tape recorder down on the table and waited for the guard to come in. She wondered how Mr. Piggle was doing; she had heard his condition had been stabilized, but he was still in no shape to come back to work. The guard from a couple of weeks ago came in with the jar of Liquidator and left to wait outside the door.
"Hellooooo, doctor! Are you feeling mad, sad, or glad? Whatever you are feeling, everything will be okay, for the Liquidator is here! Yes, the Liquidator, now in a convenient portable container! Perfect for storing in dark, terrible asylums!" The water in the jar was bubbling with no sign of the Liquidator's face.
Dr. Youngbeak had to stop and think to sort out what Liquidator was saying. He was speaking as fast as someone holding an auction.
"Bud, I realize you're feeling cooped up…"
"Why, sure! But the Liquidator always comes included with a plan! Escape is a 100% guarantee!" Liquidator said, his expression revealed as he bobbed up and down in the jar.
"Let's steer the topic away from escaping. I want us to discuss your feelings," Dr. Youngbeak said.
"I am feeling FANTASTIC, doctor! I'm always in a good mood when I'm about to escape!"
Dr. Youngbeak frowned, "Bud… I am trying to get you more spacious accommodations. You'll have to be patient."
"I am patient. A patient at this asylum, that is! Yes, Duckham Asylum. Nothing holds villains better than it does! Escaping takes time, energy, and effort, but nothing… especially not a jar… can keep in the Liquidator for long!" Liquidator continued to bubble and bob in the jar. The movement was starting to make Dr. Youngbeak dizzy.
It was clear to her that he wasn't going to stop talking about escaping. It was as if he was a recording on a loop. The hope of escaping seemed to be the only thing keeping him from having a total breakdown. Dr. Youngbeak looked down at her notes and took a moment to think. She needed to do something to help his mental state. If he went further into insanity, it would be much harder to bring him back.
She looked back at the jar of water. The expression had disappeared, but Liquidator was still babbling and bubbling on. She reached for the jar, which seemed to surprise the content inside.
"There is such a thing as personal space, doctor! Although, space is something the Liquidator is currently lacking!"
What am I doing? Her hand reached for the lid, I could lose my job for this… people could get hurt, I could get hurt. But I can't let this continue any further. How would I be able to call myself a doctor if I don't do everything in my power to help my patients? This is all the board's fault.
She gulped a little, hesitated, then opened the jar. All at once, water came shooting out of the jar like a geyser. It made a direct turn in the air and spilled out onto the floor, eventually forming Liquidator's dog-like shape. She stood but did not back away. She was afraid to show fear, but she was afraid. More afraid than she had ever been in her life. The water-dog stretched out and let out a bubbly chuckle.
This was a stupid idea, she thought, as Liquidator loomed over her, Stupid. Stupid.
Liquidator's ears perked; a curious expression formed in the water. "Inquiring minds wish to know… Why?"
Dr. Youngbeak tensed, unable to help herself, "I wasn't sure how much longer you would last in there. As a doctor for the criminally insane, my job is to improve your mental condition, not worsen it."
"Who's more insane than everyone locked up in this asylum? Why, it's Dr. Youngbeak, criminal psychologist and psychiatrist! Nine out of ten doctors agree, you should never free a super villain!" Liquidator splashed around the room, cheerful, "But it is good to be free. I just knew I would be making my escape today!"
"Please, don't… Don't hurt anyone." Dr. Youngbeak studied him and knew right away how terrible of a mistake she made. He was going to do whatever it took to get out of the asylum, and even if he did have reservations about killing people, he certainly had none about seriously injuring them.
"I cannot make that a guarantee! Buuuuut, now, for a limited time only," Liquidator's watery arm shot out, smashing the tape recorder against the wall and into a million pieces. "A little insurance policy for the good doctor."
He winked before he splashed down into a puddle and slid underneath the door. She could hear guards yelling and chasing after him down the hallway. A guard and a medic came in a few minutes later to make sure she was all right.
"You okay, Dr. Youngbeak?" the medic asked.
"I'm fine, I'm fine…"
Later, she learned that Liquidator had caused a great deal of damage to the asylum and put at least three guards in the hospital. She decided, then and there, that no matter what the cost to the patient's sanity, she would never knowingly and willingly free a patient again.
"Patient interview number twenty: Bud Fludd also known as the Liquidator. Our past few sessions have given me a lot of insight into Bud's psyche. Bud views every person as a potential customer for him to coerce or swindle into buying his products or even just to buy into every word he is saying. His whole world revolves around money and making the sale. I suspect, given a review of Bud's company records and business ethics, that he has been like this since even before he became the Liquidator. I am going to attempt finding out more about his family and his childhood. Apparently, he was born to a family of farmers, the fourth child of eight. I imagine he may have had to fight to get attention from his parents. Perhaps this explains why he tries to command attention from everyone he meets."
Dr. Youngbeak walked down the hallways of Duckham Asylum, stopping at a door. She entered a security code and placed a hand on the handprint identifier. The door opened up to a large room with an almost empty tank taking up most of the space. Liquidator stood inside, leaning against the front side of the tank, waiting for her.
"Seasons greetings from the Liquidator, doctor! What's on our agenda for today?"
Dr. Youngbeak sat down in a chair in front of the tank.
"I'd like to discuss your childhood."
Liquidator's liquid ears perked in curiosity, "Now, why would the good doctor want to know about a little thing like that? My childhood wasn't exactly normal, but I can say it was a good one. I was as happy, then, as I am now! Perhaps the Liquidator can interest you in some other topic of discussion? My college years? I was THE number one hit at parties!"
Dr. Youngbeak looked over her notes, seeing that she had written several times over that, while Liquidator had a tendency to be direct with most topics, there were some topics, particularly those that tried to probe deep into his personal life, that he tried to avoid altogether. She jotted a few more notes about it and looked up.
"I am glad to hear your childhood was a happy one, Bud. I'm interested in hearing more about it. Often, it is our childhood that begins to shape us into the person we are now."
Liquidator's flowing movement stilled; his expression became fierce. "What do you mean by that? My parents had nothing to do with my choice to be a super villain. They raised all of us just fine. My sister, Bedelia, is even a cop in Duckburg."
"I didn't mean to imply that," Dr. Youngbeak said quickly, making a note to be more careful in the future. "What I meant is your childhood experiences, not necessarily involving your parents, has had some hand in shaping your outlook on life. For instance, you said you had a happy childhood. Perhaps it's that happy childhood that has contributed to your optimism about life."
"I see." Liquidator made no further attempt at conversation.
"Why don't you want to talk about your childhood, Bud?" Dr. Youngbeak asked, trying to read his expression. He seemed… worried.
"Because I don't want to talk about my family," he said, in a matter-of-fact way, "If you act now, you can still hear about my college years!"
A grin appeared back on his face, then. The worried look vanished.
"Liquidator, everything we say here is confidential. The tape recording is for the ears of doctors only. It helps supplement my notes, so that I and others can better devise a treatment plan for you," Dr. Youngbeak told him.
Liquidator hesitated. There was a short silence in the room, save for the sound of water dripping from his liquid body.
"My family and I aren't on good terms anymore, but still, I worry about them. I worry about their safety… It's not guaranteed when you're the relative of a supervillain, particularly a supervillain who works for Negaduck."
"Has he threatened your family?" Dr. Youngbeak said with expressed concern.
"No, no. Thankfully, he hasn't. He hasn't needed to. I work for him because his plans are brilliant, and he's a good leader, I must admit, even if he is the biggest jerk the world has ever seen." Liquidator paused, "But there are times I wonder…"
"You needn't worry about what hasn't happened, Bud. But I would suggest that it'd be best if you didn't work for Negaduck anymore. The longer you stay with him, the higher the chance will be that you'll get caught up in a situation where Negaduck might find out about your concern for your family's safety, and he might use that against you if you don't do what he wants."
"Oh, I couldn't stop working for him. I've grown quite attached to my teammates, as crazy as they drive me, sometimes. Negaduck knows that much. It seems the Liquidator is trapped in this business deal." The liquid canine filled the tank up with a little bit of water and rested on top of it, "So, what does the good doctor suggest I do, now?"
"You and your teammates are safe in here. The asylum is…" Dr. Youngbeak began but was cut off by the Liquidator.
"Is made of Grade-A cardboard. Negaduck could break in here easily if he wanted to. He just hasn't wanted to yet."
"I think you ought to give Duckham Asylum's security a little more credit. We are much better equipped than what that so-called supervillain prison had been." Dr. Youngbeak gave him a stern look.
"Yes," Liquidator agreed, "But that's not saying much. Duckham Asylum: It offers slightly better security than any previous prison before it!"
Dr. Youngbeak sighed, "I'm not here to argue with you, Bud. I won't press the issue of your childhood at this time. Instead, let's talk more about your relationships with your teammates."
A thoughtful expression crossed Liquidator's face. After a moment, he nodded. "How might I help the good doctor?"
"What do you think of them?" Dr. Youngbeak asked.
Liquidator's smiled wide, "They're my partners in crime! It's a partnership guaranteed to benefit all four of us. Quackerjack is the most imaginative; this is a skill which aids him quite well despite not having any super powers. He can go toe to toe with Darkwing Duck all the same, and he's a master of distraction! Megavolt provides all the sparks we could possibly want, as well as an electrical know-how that's second to none. With his powers and genius combined, he is the literal powerhouse of our little team. Bushroot also supplies a vast intellect and cunning, along with his mastery over all of plant life. He may be a little new to criminal undertakings, but he is not to be underestimated under any circumstances! And then, there's yours truly, the one, the only, Liquidator! I have it all… brains, brawn, super powers. I can lead, I can follow, I can destroy. Is there anything I CAN'T do? No, there isn't!"
Dr. Youngbeak tried not to gape at him during his little speech, but it took every ounce of her willpower. "Well, um… That was quite informative." She tapped her pen on her clipboard, "You seem to think very highly of your partners."
"And why wouldn't I?" Liquidator asked.
"I can't think of a reason why you wouldn't." Dr. Youngbeak looked over her notes and decided she needed to amend her previous assumptions. Bud Fludd did not care solely for himself and material possessions. He was loyal to his family, and it seemed he was loyal to his friends in the Fearsome Five as well. Still, if Liquidator's family's disapproval didn't steer him away from the life of crime, it meant that his loyalty to himself and to his money was greater than to his family and possibly his friends as well. She happened to glance at her watch while taking notes. There was still a few minutes left.
"I miss them, you know."
Dr. Youngbeak looked up, "Hmm?"
Liquidator had his watery arms crossed and was leaning against the side of the tank again. "My teammates… I miss them," he said.
Dr. Youngbeak gave him a stern look. Liquidator held up his watery hands, as if in surrender, and grinned.
"I wasn't going to ask you that again, doctor. Honest. But I was wondering if we could negotiate. I am grateful you have convinced the board to accommodate me, but it's lonely in here. I don't get a time in the rec room or lunch time. The guards make for poor conversation, and you only stop by once a week." Liquidator looked at her, hopeful, "Do you think you could arrange it, so that I could visit with them? Or at least one of them?"
"Your request might be a challenge, Bud. I'll have to get it approved by the board, of course, but I'll also need to make sure the other patients are okay with visiting with you. It's likely your visits will be monitored closely, if I can get this arranged at all," Dr. Youngbeak told him, thinking over how the board would respond to this new request. It seemed doable, but she could never be sure.
"You have my thanks, good doctor!" Liquidator made a motion as if he was going to reach out and shake her hand, but the tank stopped him.
"I'll try my best, Bud." She glanced at her watch, "It looks like we're out of time for today. I'll see you next week, same time."
"Perhaps or perhaps not! Who knows what lies in store when you're dealing with the Liquidator!" the liquid canine said, grinning while Dr. Youngbeak left.