It's Terrible To Have To Depend On

Killing Makes Me Feel Good.

In My Lifelong Study Of Human Beings, I Have Found That No Matter How Hard They Might Try, They Have Found No Way Yet To Prevent The Arrival Of Monday Morning. And They Do Try, Of Course, But Monday Always Comes, And All The Drones Have To Scuttle Back To Their Dreary Workaday Lives Of Meaningless Toil And Suffering.

A Reasonable Being Might Think That He And I Could Find Some Common Ground; Have A Cup Of Coffee And Compare Our Passengers, Exchange Trade Talk And Chitchat About Dismemberment Techniques. But No: Doakes Wanted Me Dead. And I Found It Difficult To Share His Point Of View.

I'm A Very Neat Monster.

I Had Become A Perfect Fake Human, Saying The Stupid And Pointless Things That Humans Say To Each Other All Day Long.