The retort

Who: Cerebrum, Alota
Where: The blasted (literaly) psychiatric office
When: Just after the call from the moronic, idotic, incompetent;
oops, getting ahead of myself
> "...and as such we cannot spare the personnel, or indeed the
time, to treat an unconscious pilot in your psychiatric department.
> Quite frankly, if the cretin is foolish and clumsy enough to crash
> into your department ANYWAY, then he is obviously deranged and so
> will make a fitting companion. With any luck, perhaps you'll feel
> a strange compulsion to follow his lead and will therefore STOP
> BOTHERING ME!"
Fuming, Cerebrum reactivated the intercom, "Well, *Doctor* Keto,
though I use the term loosely, I seem to recall that the purpose of
the medi-bay, with a hyphen, was to treat injured people. There is an
injured person here, ergo, he should be moved to the medi-bay by
trained professionals and treated. Now, I'm aware that you have a few
capable nurses there, so it shouldn't be too hard to find trained
profesionals, because I most certainly would not count you as a
trained profesional. But, seeing how your utter incompetence and
inability to perform the most basic duties hidners you, I shall bring
pilot Jay Chrysler down to the medi-bay, with a hyphen, myself so
that a member of your staff, hopefully one who posses some degree of
medical skill, unlike yourself, will be able to treat him. In
conclusion, I find that you're a megalomaniac, psychotic, ignorant,
moronic, incompetent buffoon and if you were twice as smart as you
are now, you'd only be a half-wit. Oh yes, since the psychiatric
offices have been destroyed, I'll be spending the next few months in
the medi-bay while my office is being repaired. Hope you don't mind,
bye," then shut off the intercom.
After his tirade, Cerebrum pulled Jay out of the cockpit, slung him
over his shoulder, grabbed his suitcase full of psych-profiles with
his other hand, and headed down to the medi-bay, whistling.