Oh, you guys! The last book I read was 'Moriarty' by Anthony Horowitz, and before that I breezed through 'Summer Moonshine' by P.G. Wodehouse.

Ridley Scott has made many fine movies in your dimension. He should be proud of his accomplishments.

Oh my goodness, those were pants? I thought they were just… you know… part of your body.

Honey, no.

Alternate me should really study and attempt to emulate her example.

I… yeah.

In my dimension President Elizabeth Warren just passed a single payer health care bill, with support of course from the compassionate, intelligent statesman Mirror Universe Paul Ryan.

He's staring down at his dwindling self-image.

In my dimension Lance Armstrong is known far and wide for his honesty, impeccable moral character and hideously poor performance as a professional athlete.

All the ostentatious portraits and the gold toilets in the world can't disguise the signs of an empty inner life. I understand why you attack him, but really the most appropriate response is pity.

My poor dimensional twin. I should give him a call.

Money doesn't make you happy, folks. I mean, I suppose. My family has never been rich.

'The beauty of Trump'. Now there's a phrase I haven't heard much!

…I've never had bone spurs. I'm sure I would remember that.

Honestly, why would he care? My hands are small and it's never hurt me.

Good Lord, look at how miserable he looks. That poor, confused, sad little man.

I mean… I bought some Tylenol once.

Ha! Well observed! Allow me to immediately admit when I have been proven wrong.

All women deserve to be judged on their accomplishments, not on their appearance.

I have? Allow me to immediately apologize.