Wallace invents a collar for Gromit that allows him to verbally communicate. Things heat up when a suspicious "conscience" named Buddy appears and begins to give Gromit advice. Is he to be trusted? Or does it all seem a little glitchy?
"Are you trying to make me hurt Wallace?" Gromit slammed the door to his room after making Wallace breakfast. "No! Of course not!" Buddy insisted, sitting on Gromit's bed. "I'm just trying to help you see the things you need to stop doing." Buddy studied his long black claws, avoiding looking at Gromit. "And caring for my best friend is one of them?" Gromit put his hands on his hips. "No, not at all! Well, not completely-" Gromit let out a loud sigh. "I think I need a break." Gromit pressed his thumb and index finger in between his eyes, obviously annoyed. Buddy shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Gromit stepped outside, inhaling the cold air. He headed down the road towards town. His stomach growled. He realized he got so busy in making sure Wallace was happy that he'd totally forgotten about himself.
Once in town, he stopped in front of his favorite diner. They had the best tea, and he figured it was best to clear his mind with a cup.
He opened the glass door, a loud bell going off. "Be right there!" a lady's voice called from the back. Gromit sat at a table and leaned back in the chair, flipping open the newspaper that was on the table. He scanned the pages for the ad he'd seen yesterday, making sure he wasn't making things up. Nothing. Did he imagine it? Was he really that tired?
"How ya doin, baby?" The waitress stopped by his table. He was the only one in the restaurant, so service should be good. "Good," Gromit replied, "Just black tea and a breakfast combo." He ordered the same thing every time he came here, which wasn't often. "Gotcha." The waitress hustled off to the back. Gromit's eyes were still glued to the paper, wondering about the sudden disappearance of the mysterious ad.
The waitress returned with a plate and cup of tea, setting it down in front of Gromit. "Say, you look familiar."
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She looked at Gromit, who'd set the paper down. "I don't think I know—" She squinted her eyes. "Gromit?" She asked. Gromit was taken back by this. "How did you-?" A wide smile spread across her face. "It's really you!" She excitedly jumped up and down in one spot. "No, I think you're confused," Gromit stood up. "Aw, no, come give your aunt a hug!" Gromit was taken back as she pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh, it's been so long!" She squeezed him. "Remind me how I know you?" Gromit's muffled voice came from in between them. She let him go. "I'm your Aunt Della!" She held out a hand. Gromit raised an eyebrow at the crazy waitress before him. She was a dog, like him, but her fur was more reddish and her pink hair puffed out in all directions. He could see the resemblance.... a little.
"I know you barely know me, but I know you!" She sat down at his table. "I used to babysit you when you were little, while your mom was at work."
"My mom—" Gromit began. "I've never known anything about my mother.."
