"Dipsy, I'm so tired. I think I'm burned out."
"Skeemo, being a Lab Rat can be exhausting. You just need to know how to pace yourself."
"Sure. Except I don't set the pace, the Scientists do. I finally get a chance to relax in the corner of my cage and what happens? Here comes the white gloves to shoot more cancer up my ass."
"But if you realize that what you are doing is worthwhile by helping the world you'll find the stress goes away."
"Fuck helping the world. I'm tired of cancer being shot up my ass. If the world really needs that, then do it on them own damned selves."
"But then they give you medicine to try to make you better."
"Yeah, wonderful. They find out the medicine doesn't cure ass cancer but DOES make my dick longer. They'll make more money with THAT then they would by actually curing the disease."
"I had one medicine that made me stop scratching my fur off in bloody clumps. I liked that medicine."
"Yeah, they coat you in flesh-eating fungus only to try some new athlete's foot ointment. How benevolent of them."
"Just think: at some point they'll HAVE to retire us, and then we can live the rest of our life relaxing."
"Retire? If you call death-by-fatal-injection retirement, then we'll sure as hell be relaxed."
"Don't be so pessimistic, Skeemo. They can't kill us all when they're done with us."
"Yeah. Maybe we get to go and live the rest of our lives on a farm."
"That's what they tell kids when they have to put a pet down."
"Exactly, Dipsy: exactly...
I am Laslo.