Telepathy(Xander): Really, Rhelan. Get over it. I have more important problems to worry about. I don't have time to make you feel any better about being in my presence. You know that you don't want me messing with your head, any more than I can help.
Thought(Grant): Vespasian Eugene Xander, you'll never understand how you dehumanize everyone you come in contact with.
Grant: Let the sheep issue go. You're running a gulag here. I know that wasn't your intention. They all know that you can alter any genetic mutations caused by inbreeding.
Xander: If the people don't work to feed themselves, they're going to starve.
Grant: It would cost the same amount of money to ship MRE's over for a year. Logistics are against the idea of a self-sufficient island.
Xander: Then what would the people do? How would they keep occupied.
Grant: Well, send them back to the mainland. What are they doing here except giving you a headache? We've got 10,000 souls and none of them ever seem to leave.
Xander: What about you? Do you miss the mainland?
Grant: You know I do. Why ask a stupid question like that? I'm so tired of these endless winter rains. If these new telepaths work out, I'd be perfectly glad to resign my commission and retire to a nice golf course in Bakersfield.
Telepathy(Xander): Not much chance of that, is there?
Grant: Yeah, they'd kill me because I know too much about you and you wouldn't even have the decency to save my life. Unless I forced you to...at gunpoint.
Grant: Besides, you're getting the ball and chain, we're supposed to be celebrating. Who knows, maybe she's got a serious fetish for grandfatherly men.
Grant: If that's your kind of thing. I'll dance the Charleston on your grave yet, Eugene.
Xander: I would have hoped an Evil Overlord merited the Can-Can. But it'll do.