“I’m not facing those peasants out there. Screw you,” said the Abomination.

Dr. Reinhardt rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was turning out to be the absolutely worst night in his long and notorious career, but not for the reasons he’d expected. He started to argue with the Abomination again, but instead asked, “Are the gates holding, Lorencz?”

“Yes, s-sir. Th-th-they are.”

It occurred to Reinhardt that fixing Lorencz’s stutter would’ve been a better use of the last four months.

“Hey,” the Abomination said, “can I ask you something?”

Well, this would be good, at least. Whenever his creations asked about their purpose in the world, he enjoyed the philosophical and theological discourses that followed. “Of course,” he said, rubbing his hands.

“You got cable up here? It’s Friday, right? David Tennant is the second best Doctor after Tom Baker.”

Reinhardt grabbed Lorencz by the lapels and jerked him up so their noses were inches apart.

“You brought me a nerd’s brain, didn’t you, Lorencz?” he hissed.