Chapter 8: Insomnia
Grey Matter, vibrating and holding a small-for-anyone-but-him cup of coffee: I cannot cease nor slow my progress, not when I am on the verge of accomplishing greatness!
Upgrade: [shuts off power to the lab]
Grey Matter: Et tu, Upgrade?!
Fourarms: [cocks raygun] Go to bed. This is no longer a request, this is now a Threat.
Grey Matter: But–
Fourarms: Don't try me, pipsqueak; I will let Eight in here with a permanent marker and no supervision.
Grey Matter, paling briefly: ...Fine, you ignorant heathen. You have bested me.
Grey Matter, snuggling into the lab drawer he uses for a bed: For [yawn] now. But I will have my [eyes drift shut] revenge... [snores]
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