More the work horse than the dog. Is there nothing a demon won't do? [Apparently not. Then again, he can relate.] Times are changing fast, aren't they?

[One more vine down and he stops to survey the results of his work and consider the boy's words.] Being that I'm feeling a bit generous today, I'll let you in on a little secret: I don't know about that. [Nothing new has cropped up since the last runt of a plant he just dealt with, so he puts his scythe away, well hidden under his coat, and back to his apartment he'll head, just to see if the little Earl will follow him.]

Last I saw of my beautiful dolls and you, all of it was headed to the bottom of the Atlantic. Never a doubt in my mind you'd survive, though. Least that butler is good for something. Work horse, indeed.