“You bred raptors?”


Muldoon: “They should all be destroyed. They’re lethal at eight months. And I do mean lethal. I’ve hunted most things that can hunt you, but the way these things move…

And they’re nasty little muppets, too. They’re not content to just kill you, they have to hurt you. Tear right through you. Your feelings, I mean, mostly. Which can hurt a lot worse than a claw slash across your jugular.

They’ve taught themselves how to make obscene gestures with their hands. And they’re not shy about taunting the staff with them and making cruel assumptions about our sexual behaviors.

Some of the little devils have even figured out tools. How to build simple ones. Pens and pencils, even. Then they use them to draw unflattering drawings of us and hang them all over the walls. They’re particularly good at drawing stink lines and enlarging the size of our buttocks.

They’ve built a rudimentary printing press and have begun publishing a satirical newspaper called “The Muldoon Is Dumb Times.” Full of nothing but lies. No journalistic integrity, there. Making a mockery of the free press. Absolutely disgusting.

The big one somehow got ahold of my home phone number, and she leaves me harassing messages at all hours of the night.

That one… when she looks at you, you can see she’s working things out.”

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