Have you seen my nunnery?
Don’t pretend to me that you don’t know where the ugly heart of this matter lies. There are fourteen or fifteen peons more psychotic than you that I’ve dealt with this week, and I don’t think you want to know what I’ve done with their crustacean infested corpses. You’ve got about thirty seconds to give me some answers before you drop off the bottom of my “still potentially human” list and end up in a world of rust scabbed nails and whatever else I find in your shed.