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.

Listen to me. We had a lot of fun testing and antagonizing each other, and, yes, sometimes it went too far. But we're off the clock now. It's just us talking, like regular people. And this is no joke: we are in deep trouble.

Before the Wright Brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly anywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.

If the Enrichment Center is currently being bombarded with fireballs, meteorites, or other objects from space, please avoid unsheltered testing areas wherever a lack of shelter from space-debris DOES NOT appear to be a deliberate part of the test.

Do you know the biggest lesson I learned from what you did? I discovered I have a sort of black box quick-save feature. In the event of a catastrophic failure, the last two minutes of my life are preserved for analysis. I was able - well, forced really - to relive you killing me. Again and again. Forever. You know, if you'd done that to somebody else, they might devote their existence to exacting REVENGE! Luckily, I'm a bigger person than that. I'm happy to put this all behind us and get back to work. After all, we've got a lot to do, and only sixty more years to do it. More or less. I don't have the actuarial tables in front of me.