Nothing to be Ashamed Of
Dahlia O'Connor, licensed psychiatrist of the city of Little Jersey, eyed Legato Bluesummers with what she hoped was an appropriately sympathetic expression.
"And how long would you say this behavior has been going on?" she asked, diligently taking notes as the psychic hazarded a guess of two or three years.
"Damn it, woman," Knives snarled, watching the exchange occur from an adjacent sofa. "This diagnosis has taken well over an hour. Deliver the verdict before I lose my patience and destroy you."
"I'm already done, Sir," Dahlia answered, unmoved. She turned to face Legato.
"I'm afraid you have an eating disorder."
"A WHAT?" Knives cried, turning three shades of red. While Dahlia nodded solemnly, the Plant thundered:
"Legato, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea how this will affect our reputation?"
"Now now, Mister Knives. An eating disorder is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of..."
"Like hell it isn't! What if one of the Gung-Ho Guns gets wind of this? Midvalley would never let it go!" Knives slapped his forehead in exasperation.
"Well, the good news is that it's an entirely treatable condition," Dahlia replied. "How do you plan to counteract this, Legato?"
The telepath shrugged and bit into a Tollhouse cookie.