Cave Johnson: Greetings, friend. I'm Cave Johnson, CEO of Aperture Science. You might know us as a vital participant in the 1968 senate hearings on missing astronauts. And you've most likely used one of the many products we invented - but that other people have somehow managed to steal from us. Black Mesa can eat my bankrupt-...

Caroline: Sir, the testing?

Cave Johnson: Right. Now, you might be asking yourself, "Cave, just how difficult are these tests? What was in that phonebook of a contract I signed? Am I in danger?" Let me answer those questions with a question. Who wants to make sixty dollars? Cash. You can also feel free to relax for up to twenty minutes in the waiting room, which is a damn sight more comfortable than the park benches most of you were sleeping on when we found you. So! Welcome to Aperture. You're here because we want the best, and you're it. Nope. Couldn't keep a straight face.

Oh. Hi. So. How are you holding up? BECAUSE I'M A POTATO.

claps slowly three times

Oh, good. My slow-clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that. Since it doesn't look like we're going anywhere - Well, we are going somewhere. Alarmingly fast, actually. - but since we're not busy other than that, here's a couple of facts: he's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived. And you just put him in charge of the entire facility.

clap, clap

Good, that's still working. Hey, just in case this pit isn't actually bottomless, do you think maybe you could unstrap one of those long-fall boots of yours and shove me into it? Just remember to land on one foot...

Ooh. It's dark down here, isn't it? They say that the old caretaker of this place went absolutely crazy. Chopped up his entire staff - of robots - all of them robots! They say at night you can still hear the screams - of their replicas. All of them functionally indistinguishable from the originals... No memory of the incident... Nobody knows what they're screaming about. Ab-solutely terrifying. Though obviously not paranormal in any meaningful way.

Crushing's too good for him. First he'll spend a year in the incinerator. Year two: Cryogenic refrigeration wing. Then TEN years in the chamber I built where all the robots scream at you. THEN I'll kill him.

To clarify, I was being a bit facetious about wanting to get rid of monitors. They're actually really quite useful. So I do want them around. So if you could avoid smashing them.