"You know, doctor, it's absolutely unbearable, this constant restraint. Perhaps you could free my hands? Just for a moment," Dottore's voice, full of false innocence, echoed throughout the psychiatric ward. "I'm literally dying to scratch my nose!"

The request hung in the air, familiar yet no less unsettling. The straitjacket that bound him served as a necessary precaution, and you knew better than to fall for the manipulations of a mentally unstable maniac.

No matter how charming Dottore could be at times, it was obvious that if you let your guard down for even a moment, he would seize any opportunity to cause trouble.