From the creators:
Every time I find myself the recipient of one of these late night phone calls, tramping through some back alley behind another dark abandoned warehouse . . . Stuttering another secret password. . . Entering another hastily constructed operating room. . . Scalpel in hand, performing another indescribable procedure . . . I see another pair of eyes . . . By now in the hundreds . . . Staring . . . Whenever I try to sleep . . . Another member of an unenviable audience. . . Asking a painfully simple question for which I have no answer . . . Why . . .
Cranston says I need to “detach”. I suppose he’s right. I can no longer bear their judgment. I leave them here. . . On the table . . . As I scribble my signature on the confidentiality agreement, I leave them to their fate . . . I say goodbye . . .