The Pratt Bursar is an office of scum-sucking, tyrannical, beastly sub-humans. Scum-sucking tyrannical beastly sub-humans with my money. And while I don't have anything against scum-sucking tyrannical beastly sub-humans (of questionable parentage and breeding), I would like my money back. I'm sure these revolting masses of twisted satan-flesh are really nice people, once you get to know them. But however ammicable these bowel-blasting, maggot-infested abortions of human beings may be in their private lives, I'd really like it if they were to hasten my check-cutting.

It's nothing personal, mind you. But I'd like to have them spend a measly five minutes of their waste of a life, carbon, and oxygen, to tend to the business which was assigned to their wretched, little selves. I totally respect these weasel-nazi worshiping poopahs of petulance as fellow upstanding human beings.

But that doesn't mean I have to get along with them.