Shawn: All right, idiot, any last words?
Michael: Go ahead and retire me already.
Shawn: Oh, you're not getting retired, Michael.
Michael: I'm not?
Shawn: No, retirement is a spectacle. Everyone would see the flaming ladles go down your throat. Everyone would hear your eternal shrieks of agony, blah, blah, blah, then they'd ask me what you did. I don't need that kind of scrutiny right now. So, I'm just gonna throw you in this unmarked room for the rest of eternity. And since it seems you love humans so much, I'll torture you like one. All you'll have for entertainment is that giant stack of New Yorker magazines.
Michael: Oh, come on. You and I both know I'll never read those.
Shawn: Of course you won't. But they'll just keep coming. [laughs diabolically]