[He hardly knows where to begin. His suggestion is so thoroughly tossed away that he’s fairly certain Hank will not even entertain the idea, and Connor derides himself for reacting to emotion in such a way. It shouldn’t matter. It won’t matter. He can do better, it’s happened before, more than once. And he’s fine and functioning now, isn’t he? The pieces that no longer fit, the errors that keep building up in the background of his running processes, he can compartmentalize. That’s an advantage he has over humans and he knows that.]

This is for your own good, Hank. Me helping you with making your alcohol taste better will not.

[That’s as stark of a denial as it comes, as stringent as Hank’s.]

Why do you care how it affects me, anyway? [Negotiation tactic: make the other aware of what their own priorities should be.] You said it yourself — I’m a machine. And I’m made to aid humans. How is it concern, or your loss, whatever happens to my programming internally?