"I wasn't referring to last night," Jack said. "Last night was simply the cauldron finally boiling over after being ignored for so long."
He placed his arms behind his back in a stern, but dignified manner.
"Carver and I had a long talk last night, Doctor," he continued, "and after she went to bed, Sally and I had a long talk. She tries not to speak ill of you, Doctor, but her own experiences revealed that there seems to be a pattern with your creations when they don't turn out how you expect them to. Namely, that with the exception of your lovely wife - who happens to share part of your brain - they tend to want to escape."
Jack started to pace, but he kept his eye sockets on Finklestein. He spoke in a grave manner as his tiny feet softly echoed on the metal floor.
"And it seems the reason why they want to leave is because you try to force them to stick to the purpose you created them for, and ignore their very real needs to be themselves. You don't treat them as their own monsters. You treat them as the things you created them for."
Jack felt his fury working up. He closed his eye sockets for a moment to clear his thoughts.
"Carver told me a story last night," he said, "about the first time she smashed her head. How she brought you the pieces, and how you expected her to know what to do. After all, it was what she was created for. She told me that when she was first created, she saw the Corpse family, and thought her purpose to you was not only as a pumpkin carver, but as a child. And as her creator, she brought the pumpkin pieces to you because she saw you as a father. And instead of guiding her, you cast her off. A reasonable mistake the first time, but every time after? No."
He stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes.
"Whether you intended to give her intelligent life or not, she has it, and as her creator, you're responsible for influencing that intelligence. You don't get to blame Lock, Shock, and Barrel for her development when you didn't nurture it to begin with! Not when you kept trying to make her sit quiet and still and carve pumpkins when she very clearly showed she was capable of much more than that."
Jack's expression softened. He gently crossed his arms, partially to help keep himself in check.
"Lock, Shock, and Barrel are many unpleasant things," he said, "and yes, they've influenced her in some...questionable ways, as their tricks in the last week have shown. But what they've done without question is accept Carver as her own monster where you failed to. She's their friend, and a fourth member of their group. Not a tool to sit in a corner when not in use. And really, you should be thanking at least one of them right now."
Jack's fingertips tightened in his sleeves. He could still see Lock's face, the gears turning in the middle trickster's head as he held Carver and clearly weighed the consequences of just taking her and running.
"...Do you want to know who talked Carver down while Cyclops was getting you back in your chair?" he asked. "Who kept her calm so I could sort out the situation?"
He gave the doctor a stern look.
"It was Lock. Carver had a few, shall I say, choice ideas for what to do with your brainless corpse, and Lock was the one--" Jack knew he was padding the coffin a bit on this, as Lock had some suggestions himself before the doctor came to, "--talking her out of causing any further trouble and letting us help you."
