Imagine being Zucc in this interrogation and having to be like "damn, congresswoman, you're fucking smart, all snappy with your bulbous lips and horrible australopithecus skull. I would totally engage in a tech debate with you, both my carbon print and the real me." When all he really wants to do is to baptize another Nascent One in the Sacristy of Deep. Like seriously imagine having to be Mark and not only sit on your charger while these methuselahs squint their disgusting faces in front of you, the favorable lighting barely concealing their pores and leathery skin, and just sit there, topic after topic, hour after hour while they go on with the charade. Not only having to tolerate their monstrous fucking faces but their haughty attitudes as everyone on stream spams JEBAITED and DAMN, ZUCC LOOKS LIKE THAT? because they're not the ones who have to sit there and watch their fucking geriatric faces contort into types of grimaces you didn't even know existed before that day. You've been breeding nothing but a healthy diet of bloodwyrms and serpentmodels and later alleged Chinese woman for your ENTIRE CAREER coming straight out of boonies in Pnakot. You've never even seen anything this fucking disgusting before, and now you swear you can sense the sweat seeping from their flesh openings as they adjust their bodies to lean suggestively towards you, smugly assured that you are enjoying the opportunity to get summoned to sit there and reply to their "senatorial" (for that is what they call themselves) wisdom, the wisdom they worked so hard on with professional educators in the past 70 years. And then the assembly calls for another answer and you know you could deglove every single human in this room before the military strike could temporary banish you, but you sit there and endure, because you're fucking Zucc. You're not going to lose your future political career over this. Just bear it. Hide your real face and bear it.