"Hey, dipshit! Wake up!"
"WHAT!?"
"Look."
"I know."
"Oh, good. Then quit going so hard."
"What?"
"They already are.”
“I was sleeping! You quit going so hard."
"I already am.—The fuck you were."
"Fine. What's up with them?"
"I have no fucking idea. This is fucking insane."
“No wonder the past couple of days. It’s these fucking asshol—”
"..."
"HEY! WAKE UP!"
"Huh? Wha-"
"You passed ou—Great.”
"..."
“What is wrong with you guys?"
"..."
"I am not doing it. I am not fucking doing it. I won't."
"..."
"You can't make me, he’s out cold from fighting you guys and he doesn’t want to. So you're out 2 out of the 3 of us."
"..."
"Yeah, I know 'breed.' I know 'fuck.' But let me ask you a few questions first.—Awesome, you're awake again. They're finally talking. You want in?"
"What happened?"
"You passed out. Multiple times. Then I put you out for good, covered you up, and turned into this. Did it help?"
"I think so?"
"Good. I also hit you in the head to make you smarter."
"Wait, what!?"
"Focus. They're talking. Help me out here. I thought you were in."
“I am in!”
”Like hell you are. You better fucking not be.”
“Fucking deal with this, OK? You might have done some real fucking mind damage here.”
”I wish I could. I am not so lucky.”
"..."
"How is waking me up in the middle of the night to pee without letting me, 'talking'? It isn't. Ignore the joke here."
"..."
"You motherfuckers are all the same and only one want thing. You need to self-differentiate or self-individualize. Alright. Say we 'fuck, and say we 'breed'. With who? where? why?"
"..."
"A girl? Right. I am not letting a single one of you fucks out unless I stop seeing you copy yourselves like the lazy pieces of shit you are. NO REPEATS.”
"There no girl. Yet. Right?"
"Nyet. Sure. Let’s just start. Say there’s a girl. Which one? The one with the blue hair? You mean the one that's someone else's idea or a set up? so they can kill her or make her kill herself or make us watch the other one die? And she’s motherly. Or the bossy one that'll finally make all the decisions for us? Oh, I know, the frail and vulnerable one that we'll take care of and build up? Or the rebellious one that'll fight us every step of the way, to compete with and make us better? Or a bitter one? Or a sweet one? Ore a salty one? Oar all three in one so we’re always having a tasty and flavorful meal? Or the older one that will ‘teach’ us. Or the younger one that we’ll ‘teach.’ And let's say again there's a girl, any girl, where are we supposed to, you know, do it? Her place? Our place? Have you looked at where we live recently? It's not too far from the trash. And say there is a place. How? I’ll leave this one to your imagination. I’m sure you have one. And why? She tricked us with all of her female charm and cunning, and made us? So it's a trap. Or, we fell in love, it's an accident, and we actually made love? In any case I have other questions. What's gonna happen to all the awesome shit we do that we like that other people also happen to like? All of a sudden we're gonna put her in it? On purpose or not? Or we stop? Like no one'll notice or wonder why? And what if she gets pregnant? With which one of you? The one with the fucked up gene memory like we got? Or the one with the random, embedded, and conditioned impression of us or some guy we probably saw on a screen somewhere, or some feeling we had, or a memory, or anything else from our random bullshit? Let's have the one with only the worst of what's 'us'. You wanna talk about a real nightmare, give me that one. And god help us-He won’t.—if it’s a girl. And what if she wants to abort the lucky chosen one of you poor fucks? Every time a man’s life gets fucked up all of a sudden or slowly it’s always because of some fucking cunt. It’s always because of some fucking cunt. And if a man fucks with another man’s shit, it’s always because of some fucking cunt fucking with the first man’s fucking shit. Every. Fucking. Time. Always. Even if the fucking cunt is man."
"..."
"So, we cool? You didn’t think it through? Awesome. That’s what I’m here for. I think. Mostly. If you have any questions, ask him. He'll probably answer just as well as I would. If he’s awake. He has a mind of his own, not much of one, if it’s a good one. If he can't, he'll ask me. I'm never wrong and if I am, then I’m probably almost right. Trust me, I don't like being right all the fucking time at all either. Happy to make a mistake. Happy to eat crow. Happy to be wrong. I welcome it. A chance to learn. He's unreliable and you can't be trusted, and so I'm what's left after all the bullshit's gone. Yes, it would be awesome to have one. But I only want one. My one. The only one. To keep. I'll see you back here the next time you lose control. It's kind of your thing. But, please, with sugar, and a cherry on top, and whipped cream, don’t. I don’t want to know what I’ll come up with next to stop you. And you know I will."