"If you were a government employee, what would you find more suspicious being left in an office, a bunch of toys or a briefcase? We get it kid, you're an effeminate man-child with some strange hobbies."
Shigga frowned. "I know the value of subtlety, mammoth-mounds. If you tell me to plant said briefcase filled with explosives, I'll do it. As for the effeminate man-child 'compliment,' I didn't always look or sound like this. When I encountered Magenta, I--" He stopped himself mid-sentence, and figured 'what was the point?' They wouldn't believe him, knowing these folks, no matter if it were the truth or a fabrication of his own madness.
"You wouldn't understand. Or would choose not to. Whatever."
"If they annoy you, darling," Magenta intruded into his conscience, "don't hold back. I would gladly tear them into succulent bits for you!"
"Don't you even think about it..." Shigga thought back with a snap.
"Oh, don't worry about me. Worry about your own urges."
Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.