>Let's head out.

You decide to cooperate a little more with the weird, foreign ideas that keep coming to you, even if they might seem like ridiculous nonsense. That at least seems to be how this place works anyway; you may as well adapt if you're going to get anywhere. You give in to the bizarre compulsion to speak to the garbage bin, but it doesn't answer. On your way out, you leave one of the plastic army men in the middle of your bed, because that suddenly feels like a thing to do. Why not.

Of all the possibilities, you think maybe you might want to talk to that depressive whatsit again. It was at least speaking coherently, maybe it will actually answer questions?

Oh, it's you again. I take it you're here so you can leave again in disgust. That seems to be the only reason anybody bothers to visit. I think they make a game of it. I don't know if they're keeping score, but I've been doing it for them, at least.

...Wait, you're still here? That's a new record. I think I got a whole paragraph out this time. I take it from your bizarre habit of continuing to listen to me that you are a masochist. I do hope you're enjoying this encounter, at least that'll make one of us.

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