It might be full of analgesic, but the injections hurt. And he was not going to acknowledge that. Instead he was going to take out his frustration the healthy way: dumping it on others.

"If you're not human, why are you so ugly?" Usually he would come up with something more inventive, but he was not at the top of his game at the moment.

"They're easier than flabby little meat hands," he mutters, managing to get the injector filled by the power of spite alone. "Versatile. Replaceable. Not covered in... hand squiggles." He couldn't remember what they were called. Little lines all over human hands so they could grip things better. Stupid way to do things. What if you stuck your hands in something caustic? The squiggles would just fall off!

But as always, his attention span was short. "I designed it personally." He'd calculated the ideal curvatures to match his aesthetic. His backside wasn't just nice, it was a custom-built work of art.

Unlike whatever was going on in his insides at the moment. Now that things were beginning to numb, he could prop the incision open to get a look at how badly things had been botched. Which would be much easier if it weren't his own torso he was working on. "Hold that." He gestures to a mirror on the tray next to him.