Mystery Science Theater 30001988

Observer:
[studying Mike] His humid, fleshy extensions struggle as he attempts to conquer some simple, seemingly purposeless toy. Already a sense of pity overcomes me, yet I am propelled by my own compassion. Although his biological makeup implies a living thing, I am sure we shall discover him to be an animated piece of refuse or feces; but I must remain impartial even as he mocks everything I hold dear. I hate him. I can only pray that his tiny spinal column conveys no spark of truth, no splinter of the horrible reality that is his own soul. My god, I pray for his death and to all things that love rightness and decency...