A Krogan walks into Mordin's medical lab.
Mordin: What seems to be the problem?
Krogan: D-d-d-d-doc. I-i-it's-ss m-m-my st-st-s-s-stutt-tter. N-n-n-no one w-will m-m-m-m-ate w-w-ith m-m-me.
Mordin: Interesting. Speech therapy down the hall. Higher probability of finding solution there. Good bye.
Krogan: N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-no... Y-you don't und-d-ders-s-s-stand! I've t-t-t-t-t-t-tried eve-ver-ve-veryth-th-thing!
Mordin, feeling compassion and a bit of guilt because of the genophage: Understood. Will conduct thorough examination. Lay on table. Wait.
Mordin then conducts several hours of very detailed, very thorough examinations.
Mordin: Good news and bad news.
Krogan: Wha-wha-what-what's-s-s-s the g-g-g-ood n-news?
Mordin: Found problem.
Krogan: R-r-r-really? Wh-wha-wh-what's th-the bad-d-d n-news?
Mordin: Will get to it. Look at X-Ray first.
Mordin holds up a full body scan of the Krogan and points to each area he describes: See there? One of your reproductive organs is large. Too large. Causing strain on spinal cord. In turn, causing strain on vocal cords.
Krogan: Wh-wh-what can w-we d-d-d-d-dd-d-d-d-d-do?
Mordin: Must remove large organ.
Krogan: Wh-wh-wh-wh-whAT??
Mordin: Only way.
The krogan thinks of all the lonely times and the lack of attention due to his speech impediment. He is a fine, fine specimen otherwise, hulking and brutal, but the loneliness due to his inability to speak properly has caused him to become quite an outcast.
Krogan: O... o-o-k-k-k-k-ay...
After a 4 hour procedure of grueling, precision surgery, the operation is complete. The krogan comes to and speaks...
Krogan: Doctor, did everything go okay? My voice! I'm cured! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Mordin: Everything as according to plan. Everything smooth. Go, enjoy.
The krogan laughs and runs out the door, even forgetting to get dressed because he is so excited.
Two weeks later, the same krogan barges back into the medical lab, surprising Mordin.
Krogan: Doc, first of all, I want to thank you. Since the procedure, my social life has been great! I've become an advisor to the head clan, my mating requests have been booked solid, and my varren doesn't run away when I talk to him anymore! He's even top fighter in the tournament! But doc... my sex life is horrid. I need my organ back.
Mordin sighs, looks through some paperwork and shakes his head.
Krogan: Oh no! Have I waited too long? Is it irreversible? Tell me why, doc.. WHY???
Mordin: T-t-t-t-oo l-l-l-l-late.