the Excise Chamber

Kid, do you know anything about science?

I've done everything I could possibly do to educate you about the ways of science, but you have proven to be a useless pupil. This is unfortunate because everyone had such high hopes for you. No such luck, babycakes. No suck luck for you. There is only one option, and that is to the Excise Chamber. I'll send your pineal gland off to the pet store.

It was time for you to be reincorporated into our lovely little group but you did not appreciate the rigors of our rites du payssage and, as such, you will need to be jettisoned. Kablooey. I have to admit that there were times, little guy, when I had such good faith in your ability to thrive. But there is nothing left for you except, yes, the Excise Chamber. Quit shivering like a gelatin.

You understand our precepts and processes, but you fail continually to abide, little hellion. Now please enjoy your disincorporation, by which I mean that you will be separated from your body directly, kitten. Posthaste.

The Excise Chamber, the room located directly below us here, is dank and full of insects which will bite you. This is the Tenderization phase in which the little creatures will cause your little bits of skin to become like gel, so that our instruments might navigate underneath. This is all in the name of what we stand for, which you have not stood for since you were able to shake away the amnion. I apologize, but I am required continually to remind you of your intense transgression. This seldom happens and it comes as a surprise to us. But the Excise Chamber exists for a reason, and you will see your torturous voice piped out through the vents just in the corner. From here we will monitor and know.