The Kindneth of Sweezus

Are you sure it's bleeding, Professor Freud? asked Belle et Bonne.

I think I thould know, said Professor Freud, trying keep his teeth closed. Path me a handkerchief, thomeone.

But no one had a handkerchief. They were all much too young.

I may have a tissue, said Marie. Oh yes, here's one, but it's been used in one corner.

Professor Freud looked alarmed. He waved his blood-streaked vanilla ice cream in the air helplessly.

Let me take that, said Sweezus.

He examined the icecream.

That's not blood, Professor Freud, said Sweezus. It's blood orange.

I think I thould know what it ith, said Freud. Get me a mirror, at leatht!

Come over the road to the toilets, said Sweezus. There'll be a mirror in there.

There were new public toilets on the esplanade opposite the Ripple and Swirl. They were decorated outside with colourful mosaics of mermaids. The sort of toilets that might have a mirror inside.

Sweezus led the ailing Professor over the road and into the Men's.

There was a mirror of sorts. A metal one. Polished. But not very reflective.

It's not that reflective said Sweezus, apologetically.

It'th not your fault, said Professor Freud. He looked in the mirror and stuck out his tongue.

It'th thtopped bleeding, he remarked.

It never was bleeding, said Sweezus.

Well, thankth for your kindneth, said the professor.

You can stop talking like that now, said Sweezus. And you're welcome. I'm not usually the one who is kind.
There must be something about you.

And about you, said Professor Freud. There is something....

A man came out of one of the cubicles.

Sweezus and Freud hurried back to the Ripple and Swirl.