A complaint

Cerebrum walked into the loonybin, er, security department after
having paid a visit to the medi-bay. He walked up to the officer on
duty at the front desk.
"Excuse me," Cerebrum said. The guard ignored me
"Excuse me, I'd like to talk to you," the guard still ignored him.
"Are you listening to me?" Cerebrum demanded, not quite so politely
as last time and the guard continued to ignore him. Possibly the
guard was the type of person who assumed that if a guy couldn't be
bothered to try to get through to a person for five minutes or so,
the thing he wanted to discuss probably wouldn't be very important
then. Or, more likely, he just didn't care about other people.
Cerebrum finally reached over the desk, grabbed the guard by the
shirt and pulled him so that Cerebrum was staring right into the
guard's face, "Pay attention to me, will you!?"
"You want something?" the guard asked, this being one of the dumbest
questions he could have asked. If a man tries to get your attention
by pulling you over a desk, he obviously wants something.
"Yes, I'm here to register a complant."
"Well, complaints ar-"
"First off, I'm not going to fall for the old complaints are one
floor above the top floor on the ship, I'm not going to be refered to
a beureuacrat who will listen to me patiently and then forget I exist
after I leave and I smegging definintly won't fall for the putting of
a sign reading 'Complaints Division' over an airlock trick.
Understand?"
"Yes, very clearly."
"I appologize for my short temper, but on this ship so far I've been
informed that I have no budget, had all of my equipment taken back to
the medi-bay, run over by an elephant and beaten by three security
guards. The first one is the worst. Now, let me in to speak with
somebody important, okay?"