Well, the white walls do make it look rather sterile but it seems to be very cosy in here with all the padding on the walls doesn't it?
I don't mean to be rude but the jacket you've provided me seems to be too small, are you sure you got the right size?
I can't move my arms and I have an itch on my nose.
Would you please scratch it for me?
Thanks for that.
Why do I think I'm here?
I don't think it, I know why I'm in here.
I've entered all these contests for a free holiday in Queensland, stating in twenty five words or less why I should be sipping from a glass with a little umbrella in it, dozing on the impossibly white sands in a skimpy bikini designed by Jennifer Hawkins whilst whales play happily in the waves and the fuckers in charge can't even send me pissy second prize.
The relaxing and calm atmosphere in here is the next best thing, believe me.
I don't know why I should be telling you about myself. They warn people these days especially not to post things on the internet, like pictures of yourself and personal information because it could be quite dangerous.
Besides, finding out who I am is your job, not mine.
I shuffle bits of paper.
Sometimes I write on them.
Then I might staple them.
Occasionally, I'll sign things.
It's all fascinating stuff.
This pill is rather large you've given me.
Can I curl it under my tongue and pretend I've taken it?
Ok, I'll swallow.
I normally wouldn't do that sort of thing but you seem quite nice and I like you.
I'm feeling rather sleepy now but I have two sons who need me you know.
Could I go home now please?