What the helll...

Who: Trisees, Cerebrum, Keto and Zodar.
Where:  That corridor
When: Half past a monkeys ass
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  Trisees shook his head and looked at Cererbum, who was still holding the revolver, he then sighed and rolled his eyes.
 
  "Look, you unstable fool, I'm not going to perform any psychiatry!  I wouldn't know where to begin.  For a start, I'm not a
people person, you know that, all of you do.  Secondly, why would I even want to associate myself with a profession that
condones lying around on a couch moaning about ones life.  For god's sake, why can't people shut the smeg up and get
on with their lives.  Other people have problems too."
 
  Cerebrum was about to speak, but Trisees continued.
 
  "Look, all I was going to do, in order to save my nutsack, was use some of my inventions from supply field B and
transport the correct mind into the correct body.  You know, using real life science instead of touchy feely words and
crap.  I'm a mental technology specialist. I specialise in brain and mind machinery.  Understand?  I'm not trying to
undermime your already worrying stranglehold of the psychiatry department, I'm just trying to save the family jewels."
 
  Trisees looked at Cerebrum and waited for a reply.  Would he understand, or would he just get annoyed.
 
 <tag>
 
(ooc - it's a little short but I wanted to let cerebrum write his own dialogue)