Hey Surgeon. What's up? A little birdie told us you're upset with Mr. Glitch.
Surgeon’s room looks like a mess. There are more wires than every before, covering every surface, winding around random things caught in their tangle. Surgeon himself stands at the desk, muttering to himself as he works with some sort of device with a long, slender shape. The moment he hears your message, he jumps, and all the wires in the room tighten. The device on the desk suddenly flares bright orange, and he cries out, yanking his hands backwards. “Nein nein nein! Ausschalten! Ausschalten!”
After some messing about, Surgeon manages to turn the device off, and the glow slowly fades. He sighs in relief. “Mr. Glitch? That sounds like a character from a video game,” he laughs to himself, but then sighs again, more tired than the last one. “Yes, I suppose. Who told you? Well, really, anyone could have. I am not hiding it.”