“Daisy!” said Elvis lovingly, “I am sorry about your ear.  And I am sorry about your hands!”

“‘s okay,” slurred Daisy drunkenly, “I’ve gottem mounted ab’ve m’fireplace ‘n stuff.  Hey Elvis!  ‘s you!  Tell me a poetry, boyo!”

Elvis gave a quick glance to Finley, who nodded back confidently.

“Watch and learn, duck.  Watch and learn.”

“Yo, bitch!  Stop stringin’ me along!” barked Elvis suddenly.  Daisy, deep in the wondrous cavern of morphine addiction, took a moment to understand what he’d said.  “If you want summa this, you gots to get movin’, ho!  I ain’t waitin’ round forever!”

Archimedes began to inch subtly towards the exit.

“But… but… I…” stammered Daisy as Elvis strutted.

“Elvis!  Do it!  Go!” hissed Finley.

And before Archimedes could intervene, Elvis the automaton wound his arm back, and very firmly, swatted Ms Daisy on the bottom.