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Tinker Toy huffed with a little annoyance as he lay on the grass. His mother had moved his play bench outside in an effort to save herself another broken window. He only broken five! That wasn't even half of them!

With an exaggerated exasperation, he got up to his hooves and walked over, opening his little toolbox and then closing it. He felt off kilter lately, perhaps it was his need to find his purpose after his sister had gotten her own cutie mark. Bebe was an intelligent little lady to be that quick, she perhaps gotten it from their fire-maned mother. None the less, he still felt odd. Well, odder.

He was starting to question his existence, something that drove him nuts because it wasn't exactly something to go answering at such young age. But still, what was his purpose? Perhaps he was meant to be an actor like his uncle. He certainly didn't mind the tight costumes or the make up, or having his fur dyed over and over, his sisters done enough make overs to prove it. But he had never been good at paying attention for too long when his uncle showed him plays. He could memorize it, but he couldn't follow through in the scenes.

He poked his favorite doll..er..action figure, John. He had added so many things to it. A new armor, a cool sword, and, at his sisters' request, a stylish cape. He admitted that toy was much more interesting now. "...so John, what am I suppose to do?"

The doll just flopped to it's side. "...You, sir, are no help" Hmm, a talking doll would be much more helpful, did he had any spare voice boxes?

Tinker blinked once, and then twice, before arching an eyebrow just slightly. Alright, so phonyland could still surprise him with it's odd little fillies and colts. He really thought he had met the last odd one after he came up to Nevermore.

"Yah, I am Tinker Toy." He fianlly answer, not wanting to appear rude by staring...too much. Thankfully a doll came to his vision, taking more of his attention. He smiled a little before settling the doll on the table. "I think I have the right thread to match this one." He open up the sewing kit, looking through the different spools to try and find the perfect match, while giving the transparent colt an encouraging nod. "So, what happen here? Did old Edgar met his favorite raven at last? Or was somephony tried to stuff him into a wall?"

The way the colt put it, it sounded like when his uncle got too involve with a prop and well recited passage, but somehow Tink doubted that. He knew the stigma of boys playing with dolls, having two sisters, his playtime held a good chunk of tea parties. John had many clothes just for them, not that anyphony outside his mamas and sisters will ever look into John-the-action-figure's closet.

"Ah, well, I think Edgar will be quiet fine." He held out the right color thread, or at least as closest match as he had on hoof. He soon had it strung to the needle and began his careful work of reattaching the limb. "Is it your mother's or your father's? It's a very nice needle work."

Tink didn't mind the other's observation as he attached the limb with careful stitches to match the rest of the doll's. "Ah, you got two mamas just like me." He smiled and finish up his work, hiding the end stitch with good practice, it helped that one of his own mothers was such master of needle work. "Well, Mr. Poe here is all better now, let's just hope he doesn't go to too many exciting narrations too soon, but if he does, you know where to find me." He winked and handed the doll back.

"Oh, thank you..that wasn't nessesary." Tinker blinked his surprise away from the cookies and waved after the colt, suddenly realizing he didn't know the boy's name. Oh well, he would find out eventually, after all, he didn't think there would be too many ghost phonies around. He would find him and make proper introductions.

He took the cookie, nibbling on it. Talent for restoring. He shook his head quickly, while he could fix a doll, it didn't mean he could restore that old music box his mom had. If anything, his mind came up with little pranks of turning it into a jack-in-a-box. Now, to find that voice box!

Tink stared at the massacre that was left upon his bench with some akin to sheer terror before his expression blanked for a moment. "Well, this are a bit mangled....I think a bit of reshaping......let's see..." He walked to the backdoor. "Muuum, can I have my blow torch back?!"

"NO!"

"...alright then plan B, how attach was your sister to this particular doll?"

A tiny little whimper escaped the green colt as he stared at the doll with dilated pupils. Recuperating as quickly as he could manage and quiet surprise there wasn't a puddle under his hooves, he clear his throat to contain back any stuttering or cracking on his voice. "Well....um...I have heard that Edison's dolls had rather...creepy voice boxes back in the day....Your sister's doll obviously just has a faulty voice box...or..something"

He poked the doll with a screwdriver before making a little noise. "I could make your sister a new doll if you think she would accept it....because I don't think I can fix this, honestly I think you should take it to a priest and drown it in holy water."

He nodded quickly as he took the dress and went into the house. He came back with two shoe boxes. "Put the old doll in there and bury it in hallow ground."

He took the rest of the things and open the other box, showing several parts of other dolls. He grabbed so clothed and began to stick up a small body to fit the dress, he stuffed the little body with some herbs and cotton, then attached a pair of arms, and then a pair of legs, one of them seemingly a different color. He put the dress on the headless body and went rummaging his little box for a head. "Would she like a blond or a brunette best?"