( TF IDW MTMTE )

Anxiety and agitation seemed to completely overwhelm Skids, almost spilling over the edges and soiling others. He always tried to appear more composed or calmer, to be more restrained, but at this moment he felt that if it continued a little longer, he would start pacing nervously around the room.

It was, perhaps, a little foolish—to seek out another mnemosurgeon after Chromedome's refusal—but, Primus, he had to remember what came before! Did Chromedome seriously think Skids would calm down or curb his own curiosity?

"I know you have far less experience in mnemosurgery than Chromedome," Skids began directly, finding the walls and floor to be an interesting object for observation, "but you don't think you could kill me, right?"

Or melt his brain module. There were many ways this evening could end for him after this procedure, and all of them sounded grim. Perhaps he should make a will and leave the small amount of money he had to Swerve—he would surely be pleased.

"If you do agree, then I'd like to ask one favor—don't stick those needles in too deep, alright? It's quite an unpleasant sensation."

Plus, you weren't an experienced mnemosurgeon, and he simply thought you might accidentally pierce his brain module right through—but Skids kept that part of the sentence to himself. He waited for your agreement (even considering that this whole idea was a huge, absolute foolishness)—of course, he could go to therapy with Rung, but that would be very long and tedious; Skids wanted a quick result.