• Somebody's been telling stories outside of class.
  • Mr. Waylon Park, consulting contract 8208. Software engineer with a level 3 security clearance. Graduated cum laude from Berkley, but still somehow not smart enough to realize that the last thing a fly ought to do in a spider's web is wiggle.
  • Somehow dumb enough to think that a borrowed laptop, onion router, and firewall patch would be enough to fool the world's leading supplier of biometric security.
  • Stupid, Mr. Park. More than stupid, in fact, that was crazy.
  • I'm afraid that we're going to have you commited. Mr. Park, will you willingly submit to forced confinement? Did you hear that, agent?
  • Security Guard: He said "Yes", Mr. Blaire.
  • Great. Oh, and... Did I just hear Mr. Waylon Park volunteer for the Morphogenic Engine program?
  • Security Guard: That's what I heard, Mr. Blaire.
  • That was brave, indeed, Waylon. The Murkoff Corporation and the onward march of science both appreciate your bravery and sacrifice. Maybe you could administer Mr. Park here a light anesthetic?
  • Security Guard: Gladly.
  • Waylon Park. You couldn't just...
  • You couldn't just keep your mouth shut. You couldn't just play along. But you're done talking now...
  • Well... Fuck.
  • Do me a favor and die here, Park.
  • Mr. Park. How the fuck are you still alive? Let's... make a deal. You help me, I'll help you.
  • God, I'm stuck like a pig.
  • Help me up. Please.
  • Fucking DIE already.
  • No one can know! No one!
  • Grah! What the fu... Urk. Oh, God! Oh, Christ in Heaven! How did it get out?!  
  • No! No, please! No! No! Ahhhhh!

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