Work Text:
“What is that thing?” Catherine DeBourgh asked when she walked into Mr. Collins’ office and saw Baby Winnipeg on his knee.
“Catherine DeBourgh!” Mr. Collins exclaimed gleefully, getting to his feet. “Meet Baby Winnipeg!”
Catherine scowled. “Why is it here?”
“Winnipeg always comes to work with me.”
“Must you?”
“Why yes, I must. For it would be illegal and unethical to leave a helpless infant at home alone.” Mr. Collins punctuated each word with a wag of his right index finger.
“But it’s so smelly,” she wrinkled her nose. “How do you stand it?”
“Oh, I have become an expert at the removal and interchange of soiled, hyper absorbent undergarments. In fact, that is why I invited you to meet with us today.”
Catherine sat in the chair Mr. Collins gestured to, but kept an eye fixed shrewdly on the baby as though she feared it might escape and attack her or something. Instead, Baby Winnipeg gave her a large smile and giggled. Catherine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I will not pretend that I understand what you mean, Mr. Collins, for I do not. Please speak plainly.”
“I have been developing a new and informative series. I call it ‘Better Babies with Collins and Collins’, in which Winnipeg and I shall enlighten the public on proper care and safety of their young.”
“You believe there is a need for such a program?”
“Indeed.” Mr. Collins set Winnipeg on the floor with a stuffed moose and hurried over to his desk to pick up a pile of papers. Catherine stared at the baby in alarm and wondered why on earth the creature thought it was proper form to chew on the mangy thing.
Mr. Collins returned, shoving a massive stack of colourful paper into her hands. “In fact I have researched the topic, at length. There are diagrams and statistics and even a pie chart for you that show how dire the situation is. Do you know how many infants suffer from inflammation of the epidermis on their hindquarters? The numbers are alarming. Something must be done and I believe that Winnipeg and I are up to the task.”
Catherine flipped through the first few pages. “Well, if you believe this is necessary, I have no objections, provided I am not required to interact with it. Terrible things babies, full of germs that could make my dear Annikins ill.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about a thing!” Mr. Collins bent down to rescue the child from toppling face first into the moose. He arranged the baby comfortably on his waist and continued. “Winnipeg and I shall take care of everything.”
Catherine stood and returned the stack of papers.
“You don’t want to read them?” Mr. Collins asked, crestfallen. He had spent many hours compiling them.
“I trust your judgement. You are quite thorough.” Catherine nodded curtly. “Now if you’ll pardon me, I would like to check in with Ms. Lu before I depart.”
“Oh yes of course!” Mr. Collins opened the door for her.
When she had gone, Mr. Collins looked down at the baby who was currently lunging backwards and reaching down towards the stuffed moose on the floor. Mr. Collins retrieved the moose and, as Winnipeg happily gnawed on an antler, he said gleefully, “Well, young Winnipeg, I suppose we’d best get to work. I cannot decide which we should do first, ‘Preventing Asphyxiation of the Pharynx’ or ‘Expunging Nasal Mucus’, which do you prefer?”