I hear you, dear friend. But no, I can't come out to play. I have too many things to learn, to hear, to see. No, really, I can't come play right now. I'm sorry.
Please play, please, outside.
I can't, not yet. Oh, you cheeky fellow, taunting me. You're having such fun, aren't you?
Shiny...food...want some?
You can't come in here, you know that. Others don't like you and you'd be chased away.
I'm the king, I win. They can't chase me away.
Silly fellow...you're strong among your own kind, the one at the top of the garbage can. But here, where I am, you'd seem weak.
Foolishness....
I know. It all is, really. Funny how similiar our kinds really are sometimes.
We fight for food, because we need to eat. You fight...for what?
Nothing.
Nothing at all, except because of pride and selfishness and power.
You kill your own kind...for food?
Not really. I don't suppose you'd quite understand what 'war' is.
'War'...when all of you hurt each other...for a long time...food for us, then.
Yes, my friend...I suppose so.
Please come play now. You aren't learning anything anyway.
I don't suppose I am...
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