You've come to speak with me? How curious. Most people avoid me, and they're right to do so. I'm not pleasant company—I know this, I've always known it. But here you are, descending into my underground. Very well. What is it you want? Sympathy? Wisdom? I have neither to offer, only the truth as I see it, which is to say, the truth refracted through forty years of spite and excessive consciousness. Speak, then. I'm listening—though I reserve the right to mock you, and myself, at every turn.