I think I've found a solution for Doll Merchant but I don't know if I'll have time to implement it to-day.
When I was at my parents' house yesterday, I watched with my mother part of an episode of Oprah that confirmed to me that Oprah is in fact a daemon of some kind. In a segment about "That one moment in time you wish you could take back," Oprah brought out for display a twenty seven year old woman who'd been burned alive when her car was hit by a drunk driver, who's now in prison. The young woman no longer looked like a young woman, even after plastic surgery. Her nose had been burnt off, one of her eyes turned into glazed over skin, and her fingers were gone.
But of course, the people at Oprah couldn't trust the audience to feel bad for her just for this. Oh no. We needed to have it punctuated by sorrowful piano music and misty montages of footage.
These people have got to be the most emotionally disconnected people in world, I must say. That they would sit through this spectacle, allowing their heartstrings to have acid thrown at them, could only suggest that they would not feel emotion for any lesser sort of stimuli. They've gotten so's they need a kick from the mule just to wake up in the morning, so to speak.
Of course, everyone assumed something healthy was going on when Oprah bade the mother of the drunk driver to cry in the burnt woman's arms. Thank you, Oprah, Ring-leader of the damned.