[That impudent glare! Such ire. Such denial. Seriously, if she had any idea where his thoughts were going she'd be laughing her ass off. Moreso than she is now. If Jill had been asked to guess what his deal was, her estimates would all be in the right ballpark. Robots and fleshies rarely mixed well. And when they did, something still goes horribly wrong. Just ask sweet baby Alter Ego. It's classic. How could she possibly be surprised by this revelation? Better yet, how can she buy his lame little excuses?

Like recognizes like. The motives and moods may vary, but Jill bets he's still got a temper on him. He's just stuck in a body that can't make good use of it. Short man syndrome, am I right ladies?

Though the accusation he follows up with shuts her up good. It's as if all the mirth has been wiped from her body. Her stare is tar-black. Bilious. Disquieting.]

What? You think just because I'm a killer I'm guilty of all kinds of things?

[The snap is explosive. She's not got her scissors out, but the finger she jabs his way looks just as poised to pierce.]

WELL I'M FUCKING NOT! Of course it was that shitty bear-bot! Better yet, it was the psycho bitch piloting it!

She's the one who ran the game! She's the one who rigged the school up like some snuff-fetish fantasy! No one was allowed to leave unless they killed someone else, and then they had to get away with it, too! If they didn't, lights out! Public execution, personalized to your particular disliking! You think I would come up with high-faluting crap like that just to kill one chick? Hell, you think I had the budget?!

[She thumbs her nose and tosses her hair.]

I'm a serial killer. Not a megalomaniac. Wise up, Wheats.