You approach the bigoted critic in the mess hall. He is feasting on what appear to be the half-fermented lungs of a Cantankeri. He hardly notices your encroachment, until you punctuate your presence with a stern cough. "Three transsexual characters... already..." he splutters between bites that are clearly too large for his straining mouth. "F___ng SJWs... ruining my vidya." He pauses to belch, exuding an odour almost as vile as his rhetoric. You retreat to your quarters with due haste. Pay him no mind.