They're not even your screens to break! It's vandalism! It's pure vandalism! You wouldn't do this if it was your house, would you? If I came around to your house smashin' your telly, you'd be furious. And rightly so. Unbelievable.

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.

It's not like I have hordes of replacement monitors just lying around back here in the old warehouse that I can just wheel out and bolt back on. I didn't order in loads of spare monitors thinking some crazy woman was going to go around smashing them all. Sorry if that's my fault. Sorry if I didn't have the forethought to think "oh she might go crazy one day and smash all the monitors instead of just getting on with things". Sorry I didn't think of that.

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.

If you feel liquid running down your neck, relax, lie on your back, and apply immediate pressure to your temples. You are simply experiencing a rare reaction in which the Material Emancipation Grill may have emancipated the ear tubes inside your head.