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And now, with the help of a very special guest, Timmy prepares to confront the shocking decision that will change his life forever... read on for the full Evolving Item Report!
Dr. Singh: Hi, everyone! Welcome to the Evolving Item Report, your up-to-the-minute source of EI news. We're doing the show a little early this week-- as you can see, we've got a very special guest joining us. Please give a big round of applause for Timmy's idol, the maudlin pop hero from across the pond...
Timmy: Holy goodnight! It's BORRISSEY!
Borrissey: Oh, Timmy, you poor, twisted child. You dreadful little thing. The doctor explained your monstrous existence, and I knew I simply must pay a visit.
Timmy: Doc! You... this is the nicest thing you've ever done for me!
Dr. Singh: We can chat more with our friend later, but first we'd better get on with the show. First up, we've got a surprise update to the Reve Rouille, which seems to be having some mechanical problems this week, causing an unexpected evolution! The Anima Adamantea, however, has been delayed another week in preparation for its glorious finale-- I can't wait!
Borrissey: Ah, the "Anima." The soul; the essential bit of man, so they say-- but why has nature thrust it into so wretched a body? Have I no choice in the matter? Tell, me, Dr. Singh, must we--
Dr. Singh: Please save your bizarre interludes for the end of the show, Borrissey. We've still got another lovely evolution to show off: the ever-popular Gogh Reed is back with a burst of rainbow color, plus the most fantastical little animal companion yet! We should note that the Gogh Reed's creator will be away for a while, and the next couple of evolutions will be in the hands of some excellent guest artists-- but after that, the original artist will return to finish things up!
Timmy: I can't wait to see what they come up with, Doc! So, uh, can I talk to Borrissey now?
Dr. Singh: Be patient! Those may be all the evolutions for this week, but we still have to tell everyone to stop by and vote in our poll to let us know which item is their favorite. And now, we turn our attention to...
Timmy: Hey Borrissey! Hey Borrissey!
Borrissey: Err...yes, Timmy?
Timmy: Do you like my shirt, Borrissey? It has your face on it! I have all your records, Borrissey! Hey! Did the Doc tell you about my weird medical stuff?
Borrissey: She did, you poor, wretched creature. But the rest of us should be quite envious of you, Timmy. You see, life is frightfully boring; it's a gauntlet of loneliness and indignity, and perhaps, err, there's even some advantage in escaping it with your youth intact, as you soon shall do...
Timmy: So you're saying I should stay a child forever? Golly, Borrissey, thanks for the advice!
Borrissey: That's quite a lovely way to put it, I suppose. Staying a child forever. Yes, you pitiful thing-- you shall set this miserable life aside at its highest point, when the weight of the dreadful world hasn't yet robbed you of the joy of innocence. Your poetry has touched me deeply, Timmy, and the world will be poorer for having lost you.
Timmy: Aww, don't worry, Borrissey! The world's not gonna lose me! I mean, it's not as if I'm dyin' or anything...
Borrissey: Wh...huh? Pardon me, but I was led to believe that your situation was... err... terminal, and I was to be given the honor of comforting you in your final hours.
Dr. Singh: This is... uh... obviously some kind of misunderstanding. Timmy's not dying, exactly, he's just... well, there's this puberty thing, and...
Borrissey: If he's not dying, Dr. Singh, what possessed you to call the Final Wish Foundation and tell them that it was this child's dying wish to meet Borrissey?
Dr. Singh: Well, I tried calling your booking agent, but he said you were busy with another thing, so... uh...
Borrissey: I should perhaps inform you, Doctor, that the Final Wish Foundation is not a toy, and the time I'm spending here comes at the expense of an actual dying child, who even as we speak is dwindling into lonely oblivion while crying out my name: "Borrissey, oh, Borrissey, why did you not come for me in my dying hour, like I so dearly wished?" But no, little dying boy, I won't be there to comfort you whist your final sputtering breath is expelled, because I've been conned by a soulless harridan and her... blue-haired manlet.
Timmy: I love how you talk, Borrissey! Will you sign my shirt?
Dr. Singh: Well, he's not dying, exactly, but he does have a serious medical condition! He has to choose between becoming an adult and staying a child forever.
Borrissey: Alas, it is a choice we must all face sooner or later-- but not a matter that requires the attention of a lugubrious pop singer, I'm afraid. Growing up is a dreadful thing, Timmy; a fleeting period of teenage clumsiness, then a long, dolorous walk through the cemetery of dead dreams. Oh, Timmy, perhaps death would have been a blessing--
Timmy: Nah, the Doc means it literally! I have this medical thing called "megapuberty," and to fix it I either have to skip straight to adulthood or stay a kid for the rest of my life, but I don't know which to choose! Help, me Borrissey! You're my only hope!
Borrissey: In the end, Timmy, you alone must make the choice. I myself may have chosen to skip those teenage years, when the weight of my loneliness threatened to crush me-- but if not for my crippling shyness and confusion during those crucial years, I may never have developed into the grand specimen you see before you. If you skipped your most formative stages, you'd be an adult in body only, unprepared for the grown-up world of failure and despair, and you'd undoubtedly descend into mental illness. But staying forever trapped in the body of a child? For the sake of brevity I'll skip the specifics, but it would also result in inevitable mental illness.
Timmy: So you're sayin' I get the fuzzy side of the lollipop either way?
Borrissey: I'm afraid that this lollipop has two fuzzy sides, my dear boy.
Dr. Singh: Well, you're absolutely no help at all, are you?
Borrissey: I'm surprised it took you this long to notice, Dr. Singh.
Timmy: Don't be so hard on Borrissey, Doc. He may be depressing, but he's got the tortured soul of a poet, just like me! I guess I'll just have to think on this decision a little more...
