"We may do it however you choose, as you are the challenged. Wits, fangs, paws, or howls--it makes no difference to me. But we must see if you are truly worthy of the station of leader."
He chortled inwardly at her use of the word 'civilized.' Perhaps she had forgotten what it was like to be a part of a pack; what bond was implicit in the ranks; what duty it implied, and indeed conferred. Perhaps she never knew.
Adolph found himself suddenly wondering, in the space between words, whether any of these homids, truly, knew the significance of membership in a pack. Time would tell, he presumed, as he awaited Hatsumi's response.
"You haven't told me what I'm looking for."
"Anything that might be of interest to Slitscan. Which is to say, anything that might be of interest to Slitscan's audience. Which is best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It's covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth, Laney, no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections."
--Colin Laney and Kathy Torrance, William Gibson's Idoru