Two sugars, if you please...

"Look, you can make this easier on yourself. Just tell us what you know."

"I'm an administrator. What am I supposed to know? I know nothing."

"Dr. Tegsten, we don't want to keep you here any longer than we have to. After we got the government reports released on 'ways to make them talk,' we feel we can get what we want even if you don't want to tell us."

"What do you want?!"

"Information."

"Who are you?"

"Us. We're the global umbrella group for your ACLU. We're not the dandy pants they think we are. We use unconventional methods, perhaps, threatening to get your children to fill your house with chihuahuas, or convince your spouse to max out your credit cards and then swap them for higher interest accounts just before the credit card rules change. But we always get what we want."

"Don't! Not the chihuahuas!"

"'We'll get you. You and your little dog, too!' Ha-ha-ha. Sorry, got carried away there. Anyway, my lunch break's coming up - there's a grand little bistro opening around the corner, serves the crunchiest scones, I'm told. So, if you want to get out of here before I come back from lunch - and I'm no pussycat when I need my afternoon nap, let me tell you - then give me something to work with."

"Gosh...let's see. There's this dog that can hold flesh-eating bacteria in its mouth..."

"What? Be real."

"Umm...a device of some sort that let's you see the future."

"You're trying my patience. You know that, don't you?"

"Wait, wait! I know. There's a glow-in-the-dark parrot."

"What did you say?"

"A...a glow-in-the-dark parrot."

"A-ha! Fantastic. Ingloriously delicious. Dr. Tegsten, you just earned yourself an early release."

"Oh, thank God!"

"Two years from now."

"No! Please! Let me out sooner."

"Why? You want to rat on us?"

"No, it's...it's..."

"Spill it out, man."

"It's just that I want to play one more round of golf before I die."

"Golf? Dr. Tegsten, we're putting you in Club Fed. You'll have every day to play golf, if you want. We might even let you bunk with 'I'm innocent and I've got cancer' Madoff. His last bunkmates were...how shall I put it gracefully?...they were...well, some people don't make good bunk buddies. They didn't know cancer from venereal disease. The ignorance and rumour-mongering among the prison population! Maybe you can get Madoff to tell you where the rest of his family stash is held. Get that and we'll work with the feds for your early release. Otherwise...ha-ha...as they say, buy plenty of soap-on-a-rope! Time for my scones and cup of gourmet coffee. By the way, you got any money on you? Twenty euros just doesn't buy a good cup of coffee, anymore."