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Maybe somebody else could come in?
No? Just you? Just you splayed against your own counter, a clicky pen jammed somewhere around your ribs. Just you and a pair of yellow eyeballs and a grip on your skull, not crushing, but tight enough that you can feel a— feel a— a— a <span class="mu-r">pulse</span>?
Mr. Suit's freaky eyes go giant. He drops you like a sack of potatoes, which is also what you feel most like ("oof!"), and scuttles backwards out of reach. "Forgive me!"
"Whuh?" you say cogently.
"Please forgive me!" He is dropping down onto his knees. "I— I had no idea! There were no signs! You had concealed yourself so... so magnificently! So elegantly!"
Maybe you never woke up from that nap?
"I... I dare not comprehend what role this man plays in our bright future... nor how you have roused yourself enough to break through your confinement... but I do not doubt you! I do not! Forgive my rashness, my imprudency, my..."
Mr. Suit doesn't even sound the same. This isn't an important business voice. Or business vocabulary. Are his eyes still yellow? You can't really see them. You are veering towards 'didn't wake up.' "Um, it's cool."
"Is it?! I am nothing compared to you! Compared to anything! I am not the director— I am not even a department chair— it was only my turn! I shouldn't be speaking to you. Nobody has spoken to you in so long—"
Since this morning? "Um, really, it's— it's cool—"
"It must be a test." Mr. Suit is practically hyperventilating. "You know better than we do. This is part of the script, isn't it? Please, you must tell me... are we doing the right thing? We are only trying to help you. But it has been so long, and the Herald hasn't come, and the sun hasn't— the Bright Epoch hasn't—"
You have pried yourself off the counter and scooted carefully back into your chair. Your repeated pinching is doing nothing. "Look, man, I don't fucking know."
Mr. Suit might be tearing up. It occurs to you that you could hand him a pistol and tell him to shoot himself and he would. It doesn't feel great. "Please! If you will punish me, do it swiftly. Do it how you punished that man— the one you spoke of. We know he transgressed against you. It was merciful of you to end him so completely—"
"I'm not going to fucking punish you," you say irritably. "Wait. The Rudy guy? How'd he, uh— how'd he—"
"He was blown apart."
"Oh. Damn." You are going to have words with this lizard. "Uh, yeah. Not going to do that."
"Then worse? I know I deserve it. It will be the greatest achievement of my life to be subject to your—"
"I'm not gonna hurt you! I don't know what you— I don't— I don't know <span class="mu-i">who</span> you are, or who the fuck you think <span class="mu-i">I</span> am— but—" This joker wants to be told what to do. Right? "—just leave, okay? Get the fuck out of here. I never want to see you again. And don't— don't tell anybody about this either, okay? I won't talk about it, you won't talk about it. We're even. Just go."
(2/4?)
