Those bastards! Drug dealers were selling them on the street corners in Manhattan, and I bought two of them and took them homme, and they eventually died. I bet they were casing my Far Rockaway house via remote turtle cameras to see if there was anything worth stealing, so they (the drug dealers, not the turtles) could send in their junky minions to snag some swag to sell to them for a fix. Seeing I was just a poor rzlub with nothing worth note, just some crappy computers and a crappy TV, along with lots of old books, they programmed them by remote control to sicken and die.
How they treat their spy animals is a crime.