Superior Taste

Who: Keto, Polymorph (The Adult One)
When: After the blob incident
Where: Somewhere on the engineering decks
=================
Keto peered into another crate, cursed again and shoved it to one
side, causing it to fall to the ground with a clatter.
He knew that it had to be here somewhere - the cargo manifest
clearly indicated at least two crates full of the elusive juice of
the witan fruit, shipped in at great expense for no apparent reason
other than a slip of some JMC clerk's pen. Still, one man's mistake
is another man's windfall, and Keto knew several uses for witan juice
that were not widely advertised.
The complete erasure of non-factual memory when a small amount was
diffused through the skin, for example.
It was apparent to Keto that the brain could pose a slight problem -
but he couldn't destroy it, not with the knowledge it contained.
All he wanted to destroy was it's personal memories...it's opinions.
A couple of drops of witan juice, he thought, would do the trick
nicely.
"Aha," murmured Keto to himself, as he found two crates marked with
the serial numbers he was looking for. The lid of one of them was
ajar slightly. Frowning, Keto hauled it to one side...revealing an
empty crate with a piece of paper tacked to the side. Reaching in,
Keto grabbed it and read it aloud.
"I owe you one crate of witan juice for psychiatric purposes," he
muttered, "Signed Patrick Cerebrum. Curse it, he's always one step
ahead!"
Throwing the note down in disgust, he moved on to the next crate
and happily found it sealed.
"A little drop of this," he thought, pulling the crowbar out from
beneath his lab jacket and levering the top off the crate, showing a
crate full of small vials of a purple liquid, "And no more troubles
to plague me. And to think I was worried about that brain. It was
never a patch on me..."
Suddenly, with a vicious squeal, one of the glass vials in front of
Keto melted, reformed, and shot out a sucker that attached itself to
Keto's forehead, causing him to topple forwards into the crate
itself. There was a smash and the sound of spilling liquid, before
the elder polymorph transformed into a small frog and hopped away as
fast as it could.
"Graaaaagh," groaned Keto (a sound usually emulated at about six in
the morning, just before crawling out of bed to throw an offending
alarm clock across the room), "What happened...?"
What had happened was the the elder polymorph had just sated itself
with possibly one of the largest meals of superiority it had ever
ingested.
And alongside that, Keto had just absorbed a large amount of
opinion-wiping liquid through his skin. Thus it was that when the
ship-wide announcement was played regarding a meeting of department
heads, and that they should all attend, he was in no fit state to
argue...being both humble and opinionless.
The doors to the conference room parted half an hour later to
reveal a very apologetic-looking Keto standing there somewhat
sheepishly.
==============
OOC: Tag! And please God tell me this is temporary... ;)