MAGDOLENE:

What's yer name, lil' guy?!

TINY CREATURE:

Ugh. I suppose I'm called Jerry, at least insofar as I'm burdened with all this independent perpetuity.

FERN:

Wait, I'm confused...this guy's what, exactly?

JERRY:

Yecch. You're even worse than those abyss morons.

"This guy" is a thing that shouldn't be "this guy," that's what. "This guy" should have been absorbed with the rest of the Old Flesh spirals ago, just like yourself. Just like the stupid one over there.

ISAAC:

GNYEP!!!

FERN:

You're with the parliament!?

JERRY:

Ah, my mistake, there's a stupider one.

No, regrettably, I'm not nearly valued enough for any of those bloated nitwits to care what I think. Maybe if they ever listened to me once in a while, you already wouldn't still exist to wiggle your imbecile noise-flaps in my clean, quiet sphere.

FERN:

...I could smash you with my thumb.

JERRY:

You're welcome to try, if you want to watch two more of me spawn in my place. I suspect you would find that as tedious as I do.

MAGDOLENE:

Fern, dearie, howsabout ya let me handle this...

Listen, Jerry...we were just wonderin if ya knew what all happened here? It oughta be the office'a one Doctor Man.

JERRY:

Sorry, doesn't ring a bell. That's a sarcastic "sorry," which I'm not sorry for. This microsector's conceptual parameters were long evaporated by the time I sprouted, and the abyssal cavity was already leaking idiots all over it, too.

MAGDOLENE:

I see! Anything else ya can tell us about those, ah, parlyment "nitwits" a'yours?

JERRY:

Oh yes, plenty.

MAGDOLENE:

Well, shucks, we'd love ta hear it!

JERRY:

Mhm. I'm sure you would.

MAGDOLENE:

...

JERRY:

...