(anger)

"Shut the fuck up a second. Just -- you know, you fuckin' sheep are all the same. Mindless, aimless. Nice neighborhoods, great families, educations and pedigrees. Look at our new fuckin' mayor -- groomed for success. You should fuckin' work for ZNN, you've got the shit rhetoric and one-liners down to an art. You have any idea how hard it was to get a pred elected mayor in this fuckin' city? We had to turn out in droves -- you assholes outnumber us by a factor of almost ten. Lionheart wasn't perfect but he was the best fuckin' thing that happened to us."

(You don’t know what you’re talking about)

"So you're a repetitive dipshit then too. Do you even understand what the word 'storyline' actually means? You know there's more to writing than just the plot, right? Any fuckin' five-year-old can come up with an awesome plot but only legitimately talented writers can realize them, you colossal doorknob. Look, Filburt, I always appreciate our, uh, 'chats', but I got shit to do today. Come back when you got a real book to report on, like How Should a Mammal Be? or something. Oh, and you're two weeks behind on your LAST batch so you'd better fuckin' bring those back tomorrow or I'm fining your ass."

(bewildered)

"No, no no no, I ditched work to get over here, and you gave us a few social studies bullet points without even dishing on any of the crazy stuff. Like the fact it says that you guys have a fuckin' 300 degree field of vision. Says it right here. 300 fucking degrees. I'm calling shenanigans. Turn around and tell me how many fingers I'm holdin' up. C'mon, grazer, don't be a fuckin' wuss. You a lamb or a leadersheep?"