ROBOTMAN (after sixteenth beer): That Jocasta chick was eff eye inn ee fine, totally tapped that, but damn if she didn't have too many issues with her grandfather. That's major-league screwed up, there. I could understand it if it was with her father, that's Ultron, gotta respect Ultron, he's the robot equivalent of David Bowie, except, you know, completely evil, not just aging British rocker evil. And it's still in the same species, not that robots have specieses, but you know. Jocasta having a weird hang-up on Ultron, that would at least be understandable, 'cause they're both robot. Sure, Ultron built Joey, built her to be his bride, but she's not fixated on Ultron, she's stuck on Hank Pym. The guy who made the guy who made her. And . . . he's human! I don't have a problem with meatbags, always good for a laugh, meatbags, but that's several kinds of crazy there. She's a robot . . . with a thing for a human . . . and not just any human, but the guy who made the guy who made her! I don't even want to open the can of expired lubricant that is. That. That is. That. Is that. That is that. Bitches, man. Can't believe 'em sometimes. I'm better off without her. I miss her so much.