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"You made another one," came the voice from behind him.

Jumba turned away from the locker. Pleakley was standing in the doorway of the lab, his arms folded and his single eye staring at him accusingly.

He'd seen and heard everything -- everything about 628.

"Why did you made another one?" Pleakley asked. His tone was almost pleading.. pleading for understanding of how his friend could have done such a terrible thing. How he could have betrayed the trust of his new family, and of Pleakley himself.

"My little one," Jumba began gently, taking a step towards him. "You are not understanding.. "

"No," he whispered, looking away. "No, I'm not."

"Please let me be explaining.. "

"Why, Jumba? Why did you make another one of those *things*?" Pleakley demanded angrily. "How could you even create 627, when you knew what it would be? Something with the powers of twenty other experiments, that couldn't be turned to good?" He shook his head. "I thought -- I thought that you'd changed. But I can see now that you're the same monster you were when we came to this planet." Pleakley turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Silently, Jumba came up behind him and placed his hands around his thin shoulders. "Is not like that," he said softly. "Is not for destruction. 627 created to keep 626 from going back to what he used to be."

Pleakley turned slightly, gazing up at Jumba. "What do you mean?" he asked, with the slightest hint of suspicion.

"626 was greatest accomplishment for evil genius -- no other experiment like him. All his abilities, all that went into him, all he was programmed to be.. all altered, modified, by 626 himself. Now he is choosing what he will be," Jumba said approvingly. "He is choosing to be good most of time, but not much since he is thinking he is so special. Needed something to stop that. Cannot allow 626 to return to what he was before -- monster."

"So what you're trying to tell me is that 627 was created not to defeat Stitch, but to keep him from turning evil?" Pleakley asked.

"You are understanding me now," Jumba said, nodding.

Pleakley still wasn't convinced. "But how could you be sure that 627 wouldn't hurt anyone, or escape from the island, or destroy the Earth? You made him so powerful, with the strengths of twenty other experiments.. "

"But not *best* experiments," said the scientist. "Not best at all! 627 could barely talk, and was able to be captured during laughing fit by girl with dehydrator. But strong, very strong. Stronger than Mr. Smart-Funny- Cute-Fluffy. Needed to get 626 off high horse. Needed to make sure he is not becoming different kind of monster."

"Hmm." Pleakley frowned, his eye narrowed. "But if that's true, then why make 628?"

"That is for just in case 626 is needing another lesson in future. Or if 627 ever rehydrated," Jumba chuckled. "Now, family is eating? Is Thanksgiving again?"


"Good. I am liking pumpkin pie almost as much as little girl." He gazed expectantly at the other alien. "We are OK now?"

Pleakley smiled. "Yes, we're OK now," he replied, taking Jumba by the arm. "Now come on back to the house, you don't want you turkey to get cold -- Thanksgiving only comes around once a month, you know."