Aw, fuck. Your burns are so cold I got frostbite. [Scoff and rolls his eyes.]
And damn fucking straight I created you. Not that it fucking meant anything, since pretty much all that happened was our call signs hovering in your galaxy like some fucking mopey nookfuck teenager outside his girlfriend's window.
[He sneers again.]
I never said I liked it, but you can do a hell of a lot worse than fucking coddling robots who flip the fuck out if you have so much as a migraine. Like who even does that. Care about something else's fucking brain pan, what is that even. I mean, there's not even anything trying to actively kill me. Or passively. It's like Wriggler's First Prison Visit or some silly shit.