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.

The two of you have formed an excellent partnership, with one of you handling the cerebral challenges and the other ready to ponderously waddle into action should the test suddenly become an eating contest.

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.

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.

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.