Jackson: Well, no offense, but you look just like him. I saw him this afternoon. He beheaded a woman in the street. It’s a jungle on this island.

Xander: Ha! Yeah that was totally me. Can you imagine? Makes my skin crawl just to think about it.

Jackson: But seriously, why’d they send you here? What’s your crime, man?

Xander: For the crime of telepathy, of course? Name’s Xander. Been here forty-three years. I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.

Jackson: Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Michael Jackson, here. I was a general once. Had a thousand men to do all my work for me. Woke up one day and it was all gone. Didn’t like a black man getting uppity.

Narration(Xander): Actually taken by the Nevada Gaming Commission after an unwise posting to Indian Springs and a drunken poker game proposal to form a particularly interracial basketball team. When will these idiots learn not to piss off the reptiles.

Jackson: I’m happy though, but I wish there were more brothers on Eynhallow. That Evil Overlord sure is racist.

Xander: For not incarcerating Negroes?

Jackson: I don’t expect you white boy to understand.

Xander: No I guess not.

Xander: I of all people am completely unable to see anything from anyone else’s perspective. I apologize for being so wildly successful at oppressing you people, and believe me, it grates on my conscience.

Xander: I suppose I’ll just have to make it up to you.

Xander: Have fun.

Esme Jones: George? Where’d you go?

Xander: I’d like to speak to you privately Miss Jones.

Xander: You too. Upstairs. Now.