2�Iggy: Look at that. The cork landed right in the hole. It's a pretty good fit, too.�Iggy: You know Master, this cork might be just the thing for plugging that hole. There. Good as new.�6�Iggy: Thank goodness. For a while there you wouldn't respond to stimuli. You didn't digest, ingest, excrete, respire or locomote. You weren't persuing homeostasis and you absolutely refused to evolve. I had to carry you here.�Iggy: Ah, Master [AX20. I performed an emergency brain bypass and brought you to safety, but frankly, I think your chances of being anything but roughage are quite slim. Nod your cauliflower, there's a good boy.�Iggy: Don't you EVER die on me again! I don't like it here any more than you do. Where are your manners? I had to drag you here. Do you have any idea how much that flaccid little body of yours weighs?�Iggy: Oh, so we're finally coming around. You picked a fine time to die and leave me all alone. It's your fault we're in this mess in the first place. Wipe your nose. Stop dribbling! I hate it when you dribble.�Iggy: Well! I had to carry you here all by myself. Would you help? No. You dragged your feet the whole way. I ask you to do a simple thing like hold the pacemaker while I glue it in and who doesn't even bother to answer?�Iggy: Welcome back, Master [AX20. When I saw that you were dying anyway, I found a rabid gerbil and switched your brains. I hope the upgrade is agreeable. The gerbil's considerably upset, of course.�