The Elf Made Me Do It

Many of the children from Babbage have recently immigrated to Steelhead and are staying in Miss Razor's hostel in Boomtown. These little humans seem to be a rather lively lot and are very intrigued by my squiddy thing. I would much advise them to behave regarding it, lest it sees them as "snacks." One of these scamps had become lost in the woods the other week and injured himself quite badly. Dr Beck, who is our resident physician was unavailable when a distress call from them for help came out.

"Are you not a doctor?" The Elf inquired. I rolled my eyes and muttered that I could care less as it was the boy's own fault and his leg should fall off or something for his idiotic roamings. After all, what is a mangled hand or black lung here or there when it comes to them?

"But DR Alter...this is a child," The Elf implored. Did he not hear what I think of them--with their germs and tail-pulling, bear hugging ways? "I would imagine that working for you is rather hazardous. The minions injure themselves all of the time. You must have something?"

With thoughts of dealing with The Redhead and her arsenal in my head, I went over to the hostel with the first aid kit the minions cobbled together. I sighed and cursed under my breath that it was The Elf that asked me to help. Hmph. He could probably hear me complaining from sims away with those ears. I had a right mind to just toss the aid kit at them and keep going, but much to their gratitude, I patched the young miscreant up. After a threat, I departed...running right into The Elf upon my leaving. I could see the big smile on his face and scowled.

"Aw, I knew you could never do anything bad!" he said, very much to my chagrin.

I told him to keep an eye on his house...and his hair.