Although Dory trusted Miss Skovgaard's healing capabilities implictly, he was presently unable to do more than roll to his back and wiggle his fingers. Earlier attempts to raise his arms saw them flop about like fish, and he adamantly refused to look so foolish before her. He rested the side of his forehead against the bucket instead and smirked. "I'm afraid you'll have to pour it in yourself."

Seconds later another coughing fit took over, and with it the heaps of raspberry jam. Merlin, was it coming from his nose, too? Why did his face feel sticky?!

Once the fit had subsided, he resumed his tilted position. "This child was having a continued tantrum when I arrived. There was jelly everywhere, even the chandelier was coated in it. Then, once I thought I had finally subdued him-" More coughs, more jelly. Santa had better not bring that retched child more than a lump of coal this morning. "The spell rebounded on me."