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.

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...

You look ugly in that jumpsuit. That's not my opinion; it's right here on your fact sheet. They said on everyone else it looked fine, but on you, it looked hideous. But still what does an old engineer know about fashion? Oh, wait, it's a she. Still, what does she know about - oh, wait. She has a medical degree. In fashion. From France.

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.

Well done. Here are the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: "A horrible person." We weren't even testing for that. Don't let that horrible-person thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep.