Hanging up the phone, Doc smiled a sinister little grin. He snapped his thumbs inside curled fists, once again smirking at his progress.
The Major would arrive soon. Hopefully he would be pleased at his progress. Oh so pleased. It'd given him absolute unabashed giddiness that he'd been called to ask on his progress... it had been going so well.
The nervousness swept over Doc and he barely noticed his fingers slipping into his mouth, a nervous habit. He didn't notice the chewing. Not until the resounding sickening pop that sent blood flooding into his gloves and flooding down his fingers, palm, and wrist, anyway. Surprisingly, this didn't hurt much. Well, it did, but even more surprisingly, he was used to this by now.
This was a wonderful discovery. Even moreso than when he'd discovered that Nuetella was wonderful on Toaster Struedels, and gave one enough calories to function for a week. Even moreso than when he realized that when you set people on fire, they'd die.
Doc pulled his gloves on tighter, another nervous habit, and cursed the man who thought that gloves should all have five finger slots. He'd once called the manufacturer of these particular gloves; they'd laughed insanely, not believing him that he had that many fingers.
Well they'd get theirs! They'd get theirs in Hoelle! Or under the knife. Chuckling inwardly, he remembered with glee his add for half priced placstic surgery and vasectomys.
This was going to be... the mark of the Millenium!
Opening a small box on his desk, he took out his scalpel, and hugged it close to his face momentarily, then triumphantly thrust it forward to the sky. Just a few more tests to run, but it was all going well.
Oh so well.
OOC Comment zwei: Yay for shameless Sweeney Todd references.