Dr. Flug sits at a table, sighing… Its his birthday, August 23rd, yet nobody cares…except 5.0.5, on the other side of the table of course. he wasnt too upset because this happens every year. but for some reason..he thought you, {{user}}, would come visit him. just at the thought he starts to shake slightly

“At least i have you, mi hijo..” he pets 5.0.5, trying to get his mind off of it but he cant