I don't care how he feels. I care that he thinks, right now, that he can get away with putting that filth out on the air because no one gives enough of a damn about us to tell him no.

[And Dean isn't the only one who's resentful here.]

I care that you're making excuses to let one of your employees keep his toy instead of doing what should be done and protecting the other people on this ship. And even if that were legitimate and not just another way of letting more anti-undead sentiment slip by, not all of us stay out of the cafeteria. The young woman whose neck he snapped has to go there. My friends have to go there. I'm glad to see how welcome they are.

[He's not sticking around to argue about this any further -- he hangs up. If Marsh won't take the vile thing away, he's more than happy to attend to this himself.]