Randy is about to say I go through laptops like a transvestite goes through nylons though maybe like a high-speed drill through a necrotic molar would be more thematically apropos, but instead he clams up and says nothing at all, finding himself in dangerous territory: he is carrying proprietary AVCLA information on this thing, and if the Dentist gets the impression that Randy’s being cavalier with it, he might spew out a barrage of torts, like Linda Blair and the pea soup.