[Patrick Vykkers]

EDIT: OOC: Sorry, was writing my post when you posted. Let's just say Dek said those things after Praetyre sedated Arrack.
Praetyre turned to his superior;
"Sir, since the restore-patients-will-to-live approach isn't working, I'll take to heart your lesson on fear. It might not give him much of that will, but it could shock him enough so that we could give him the will later. And I think I know just what to do."
To ease the feeling of sickness he and likely others felt looking at Arrack, Praetyre carried him like he did before, directly around his neck and torso, like a Slig with his gun. He yanked him out of his pants, moved the pillow from his head, and brought Arrack over to the Mudokon apparently named Linc. He then put Arrack very near Linc's likely field of vision, and used his two free hands to gently lift up Linc's eyelids. He then moved his hand back from Arrack head and down to his torso, uncovering the hideous sight of his head fully.
"Boo!" he said in the loudest voice possible.
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Arrack felt sore. He had evidently been injured in the head. But by whom? And why? Was it another clinching proof of the Transcendal Paramite Muffin conspiracy? No, he told himself, it must an Underconspiracy, that of the Vykker-Classical Music Fan-Glukkons Who Like The Colour Orange-Celibate Intern conspiracy. He awoke, and struggled from his unknown captor.

"Let me go, you evil minion! I will not be coerced by your dark cabal of smelly Gloktigi bathrooms! Death to ye!" he said, biting his captor on his strange metallic wrist. He nearly broke a tooth, and his depressed side took over.

"Oh no! I've broken a tooth! You're a bad Inhabitant, a bad bad bad baddity bad bad with Fuzzles on top Inhabitant. Or are you an alien. I don't care, I hate you all. I want cuddles! Cuddles! Cuddles and kisses!"

His psychotic side took over again.

"No, for that is MERELY A PLOT of the Homosexual Vykker Security Chief Confederacy. I've seen you all, with your Intern's in polka dots and your cop hats, you must be in league with the Church of Hot Intern's? You must know this, even as a pathetic minion! You all love each other, and I have tapes to prove it! Tapes in the blimp! Tapes in the stomach! Tapes everywhere, all tapes of doom, gloom, and far too much glitter!"

Arrack eyed what parts of the room he could see.

"A lab! A lab! This must be where you make the 665th ingredient to Transcendal Paramite Muffin Cakes! Oh, I have you now, skulldigger!" he said, spitting in Dek's general direction,
"I have you n.."
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Praetyre gently applied an injection of sedative to calm Arrack down. His behaviour made him wonder whether this was really him, or a new person.

Praetyre continued to hold Arrack up and try to awake Linc.

EDIT: Praetyre replied to his superior;
"Yeah, I guess you are right. Judging by the monitors, there are no imminent problems, disabled organs, blockages, irregular processes, or such other phenomena. If it continues like this, he'll probably wake up in a day or so. A few hours if we're lucky."
Praetyre turned Arrack towards Dek.
"As for Arrack's physical state.. sir, as words cannot truly describe it as much as seeing it can, you can look."

"Other than.. that.. he's not that badly hurt. He feels like he's taken more than one blow to the head, not to mention signs of bodily stress exerted by his mind. The skin isn't too bad, but he is going to be very sore in about half an hour. Five years of muscle deteriation, coupled with the effects of boiling water, and mixed with a species bred for fitness. That, ladies and gentlehabitants, equals more pain than me watching Her Fatjesty give birth.

As for surgery.. I'd have to hook him up to a monitor and scan him over a few minutes, but he doesn't seem to need any. If you mean a way to give him a front layer of skin, well, I think I remember hearing from an old friend of mine that he's allergic to synth skin. And most Slig allergies are genetic, so I would have to clone him, or risk killing him and mutating him unpleasantly with radiation. So the only solution for this is thankfully quite simple. I merely need a couple of hundred Moolah and a computer. Maybe Slap could help me with this. He could also get some of the supplies you need from the cafeteria."

Praetyre turned to the Mudokon named Wash;
"Well, you heard what my superior said. Go and fetch him, and get him to bring back the supplies needed."

Praetyre turned to his superior;
"Sir, should I lay Arrack on the bed face down? I don't want Slap to vomit all over the place. And should I hook him up to the monitors?"