Honestly, I don’t get it. The Biped sits there and talks just like he always talks. But when he talks in the special padded closet with the funny thing on his head it’s called “working.”
Since when does drinking beer and reading words someone else wrote justify some form of remuneration?
When I bark, no one gives me a treat, never mind a dollar. Not that I’m complaining – with no pockets, I have nowhere to put the cash. Just saying, humans are complicated.